Life In A New Direction
by SonOfASnitch
Summary: A coin flip defines Kurt's fate, and he ends up as a runaway, homeless in NYC. Starting over is tough, but with a kind stranger named Blaine at his side, he finds that sometimes you find yourself most when you take life in a new direction. Klaine, Finchel, Quick, Barole, and much more! Full summary inside!
1. Coin Flip

_**Full Summary at the end of the chapter. Please read first, the summary contains spoilers.**_

* * *

_Prologue: _

The Norwind Bridge was roughly 112 feet tall.  
And he couldn't breathe.  
Not with the echoing of his name ringing in his head.  
Not with the image of the hundreds of pairs of eyes, looking, waiting, watching him branding themselves into his mind.  
Not with the sobs that now racked his bruised and bloodied hopeless frame.  
Not with his foot creeping closer to the edge to hover above the gently rushing water bellow him and his grip on the bar loosening with each shameful tear.  
Who knows if they were to follow. Who knows if they were to care. He was nothing but their joke. Their target. Their_ 'Prom Queen'._  
And he was sick.  
Trembling to let his his fingers fall from the only hold he had, the image of his father flashed across his battered and ill mind. The only light in his world, but a dwindling flame.  
He knew he it was for him that he could not do this. He knew it was for him that he was to leave it to fate to decide. He knew it was just pathetic how pitiful his fear of heights was even greater than his fear of death or the unknown.  
He climbed back over the railing, still trying desperately to catch his breath in the cold, crisp, and painful air of the night. He ran and with any hope his broken heart would completely shatter leaving him to collapse and die on the side of the road before he even reached home.  
It didn't. Through the ruckus, his father never woke from his ignorant slumber on the couch in the glow of the quiet television. He didn't wake up to find his son shaking on the bathroom with the bottle, the coat, and the coin.  
Tales. The bottle of Paxil was still three quarters full. Still enough to do his biding.  
Heads. The coat was his father's. Warm and protective, just like the man himself. But their was only so much it could shield him from. He would still feel cold.  
A coin flip.  
A simple decision left to fate.  
End his life, or start a new one.  
He placed the piece of copper on his quivering thumb and closed his eyes as it launched into the air. All he heard was the clinging as it hit the counter, falling into the sink, and teetering to a final decision.  
He opened his eyes, and braved to looking into the sink where the coin had stopped.  
For a moment his eyes laid unbelievingly on the sight, before his body regained its motor. He grabbed the coat, accidentally knocking the bottle of pills to scatter across the titled floor. He hit the light switch and all went dark on the coin's smug face that had chosen his fate.  
Minutes later, Kurt left his house and his sleeping father for the last time with nothing but the coat and and backpack full of chance.  
It was time to begin.  
It was time to see what things could be once he started life in a new direction.

* * *

_New story! I hope this one gets a better response than Once Upon A Time. The prologue here is pretty dramatic and not to clear, but things will lighten and be funny-feel-good-sweet and have some drama and angst mixed in too. Hats off to __**fire-phoenix-flying **__for PMing me like.. a hundred years ago, saying they'd like to see this made into an actual thing... so... here it is! Well, the beginning at least. Please, please, please give me some feedback, or if you hate this and you'd like to see something else visit my profile and see what I have in my brain or prompt me something with a pm! Happy Thanksgiving everyone!_

___**LIFE IN NEW DIRECTION (plot summary):**__ Kurt Hummel is miserable. He's suffocating and he can't take it anymore. He has two choices: End his life, or start a new one. He chooses the latter and in the middle of the night, without a single goodbye, jumps on a train going east. He soon finds himself in the Big Apple, the best place to disappear and live under the radar. Living homeless, he begins to meet a number of interesting characters, including a broadway wannabe (Rachel), a dimwitted school boy (Finn), a handicapped filmmaker (Artie), an Asian artist (Tina), a thief (Puck), a bakery girl (Quinn), and a rather cute street performer(Blaine). Maybe it's not so hard to find a home when you start life in a new direction._

**_~Holleigh _**


	2. Journey

Being invisible came too naturally to him. So, it was easy for him to sneak onto the train and shrink into a corner so the ticket taker didn't even notice his existence as he passed by on his round. From what Kurt could tell, the train was heading east. He paid no more thoughts to this night or the brash actions he had taken. From what Kurt could tell, the train was heading east. For a few hours he road and got off, slying his way invisibly onto various transferred trains to take him eastbound as far as he could go. He'd gone as far as he could before a ticket taker saw him and threw him off. He wandered the station emotionless before reading the sign for the Greyhound heading Eastbound. It was leaving and he ran to catch it, sneaking on by claiming his grandmother, an elderly woman in the last row, had forgotten a bag and he had gone to retrieve it having already paid and shown his ticket. The kind feeble woman complied, and sat down with a soundless 'thank you.'  
This bus was warm and the lights were low. And dreamless sleep was a welcome warmed.  
The woman nudged him awake. Drowsy, with blurred vision, Kurt noticed the sun in the window.  
"Manhattan." She said. Kurt looked around cluelessly at tge emptying bus. "It doesn't go any further, son." She informed before standing and following the crowd. He shrugged and gathered his things, he jump off the Greyhound and stood in the middle of the river of people rushing around him in a mindless current, each with their own agenda for the afternoon.  
A few of them shoved him aside and in the hustle and bustle, a fell in line and started to walk.  
The city was amazing, just as all his dreams had indicated. It was full of life and seemingly endless. People, people, people, dogs, buildings, birds, food, and people. Lights and sound and horns and music. There was music. Everywhere. There were melodies, intentional or not. It was synchronized madness and though, he was lost, he felt in place. Though he was homeless, and terrified with only a hundred and sixty-four dollars to his name, he felt alive.  
Biding the little in his wallet, he ate once that day. One of the fifty-plus venders he'd encountered on the street corners had sold him a hot dog for a dollar which he savored for the rest of his day as he explored in a brilliant haze.  
The night came and so did the cold. He followed the flow of people down into the ground where the subway hid. Tired men and worn women all waited under the flickering florescent lights for their chariot to take them. Kurt waited in the terminal, not getting on a train, but not leaving either. He sat on a bench and watched the people exchanging roles. Kurt had all but fallen asleep when he first heard the guitar. Rhythmic and colorful chords that carried nicely despite the unpleasant setting. It was only when a voice joined in that Kurt actually looked for the source. I was good. Really good. Something about it- it wasn't too deep, like a bass or too high and screechy like the one the guys back as school had mocked him for having. No, this voice was just warm, comforting... and well, perfect. He stood, still aching, but followed the sound. There, at the other side of the way was a boy, about his age, maybe older, strumming and singing with a charming smile. He looked tired, but still very gorgeous. His skin was a even, rich olive color- not at all like the bruise and marred, pasty pale complexion Kurt held. The boys hair was curly and shined like the color of a raven. His eyebrows were thick and defined. Their triangle shape looked a little silly, but showed so much expression so any passerby knew this boy had character in him.  
Creepy as it might have been, Kurt couldn't walk away. He took a spot on the bench across from the boy's spot. He watched as the people would walk by and drop money into his guitar case and carry on their way. No one really stayed for a whole song, though. After the first song Kurt had quietly applauded, making the boy smile. The second song, the boy sang straight to Kurt, making his heart flutter. Bittersweetly, Kurt pulled out a dollar and feeling obliged, he stood to drop it in the boy's case.  
"Don't worry about it." His sweet voice stopped Kurt before he dropped the bill. Kurt raised his head to meet the boys deep and honey-hazel eyes. Almost forgetting how to speak, Kurt opened his mouth to reply but the boy cut him off.  
"You're in much worse shape than I am." He gestured to Kurt's ragged appearance, "You're sweet, but hold onto it." He instructed and leaned in a bit to whisper, "You'll need it."  
Kurt pulled back giving a conflicted face that didn't go unobserved.  
"How about," The boy struck up quickly, "You tell me your name instead?"  
Kurt blinked once, twice and then regained his voice to answer softly.  
"Kurt."  
The boy smiled almost as if someone had paid him a compliment, or given him a right answer.  
"Kurt." The boy repeated, "I'm Blaine."  
The stood there quietly before Kurt began again.  
"You're very good." He said sincerely. Blaine's smile grew.  
"Yeah?" He laughed, "Thanks. I mean, I should hope so. This is kind of all I have."  
Kurt's smiled fell, "You mean this- you don't-?"  
"Nope." He smiled bitterly, "And neither do you apparently."  
Kurt opened his mouth to ask, but Blaine answered too quickly.  
"You can always spot the newbys." He winked. Kurt nodded sheepishly and looked to the ground with a muffled sigh.  
"You can sleep, you know." Blaine caught, "On the bench. This is my night post, I'll be here. I can keep watch and make sure no one takes your stuff... Or you for that matter." He offered kindly. Kurt's eyes lit up at the offer.  
"Really?" Kurt was hesitant to trust a person he'd just met, but something about this boy's warm eyes, or his honest tone, or his sincere smile- something made Kurt feel like he could trust this boy.  
"Scout's honor." He raised his right hand with his three fingers up.  
"Thank you." Kurt uttered before he turned to return to bench. He laid down listening to Blaine begin to play once more until he fell asleep with his head on his bag and his father's coat draped over him as a makeshift blanket.

* * *

"Kurt? Hey." A tender hand grasped his shoulder and shook him gently awake.  
"Morning Sleepy head." Blaine smiled leaning down to meet Kurt eye to eye.  
"My shift's over. I kinda thought you wouldn't want to be here all alone for the night." Was what Kurt thought he said, struggling to comprehend words and sounds right away.  
"Grab your stuff,' He shifted his guitar on over his shoulder, "We can go somewhere a little bit safer, okay?" He helped Kurt up and they began walking. Kurt, just followed grateful for even the slightest bit of guidance.  
It was a small building compared to the skyscrapers that framed it, and Kurt didn't see a sign or anything. Blaine led him in confidently; he spoke to a few middle-aged women and gestured to him. They smiled and nodded. Blaine thanked them and led him into a room cover with mats and several refugees sleeping on them.  
"It's not so bad if you think of it as a giant sleepover with strangers." Blaine whispered. Kurt smiled slightly amused as Blaine led him to two available mats in a corner.  
"I don't like to come here much," He sat his guitar down, setting example for Kurt to do the same with his bag, "I don't like to overstay my welcome, but every once in awhile I like to indulge."  
He whispered and sat on to his own mat, patting one next to him. Kurt obliged and sat quietly.  
"Plus, the women at the front desk seem to like me." He smiled and shrugged. This guy smiled a lot, which confused Kurt seeing as they were both homeless.  
"You can sleep, get a shower, have a meal- it's nice, but I don't tend to stay too long." He elaborated setting up one of the provided linens over his mat. Again, Kurt copied his actions.  
"I like to make my rounds throughout the day." He explained and Kurt sent a glance asking for more information.  
"I like to start out at Grand Central Station in the morning to catch people on their way to work. Then, I got to Central Park for the afternoon because, honestly, it's my favorite, and at night, I hit a subway. Depending on the night, I either sleep there or come here." He gestured to the surroundings. Kurt nodded in understanding.  
"You okay?" Blaine stopped and looked right at his new acquaintance. Kurt shifted his gaze uncomfortably. Was he? It seemed like only hours ago he had been on the side of a bridge ready to jump. Then he had up and walked away from everything he'd ever known, and gone to what seemed like an entirely different world. To top it all of he was now putting his faith in someone who he'd just met and whose last name he didn't even know. 'Okay' wasn't the word he'd use.  
"Just... Shell-shocked, I guess." He answered to the best of his ability, still unsure as to how to speak to this overly joyous and friendly young man.  
"How new to this are you?" Blaine asked carefully.  
Kurt shrugged, "Almost a day."  
Blaine's heart sank at the honest answer.  
"Where- and stop me if I'm being intrusive- but, where did you come from?" He crossed his legs, and gave Kurt his full attention.  
Kurt hesitated, "Ohio."  
"Ohi- Jesus, how did you end up all the way out here?" He asked. Kurt thought for a moment before he responded.  
"I took a midnight train, going anywhere." He joked meekly, flashing a timid smile. Blaine chuckled light and nodded in approval.  
"What about you?" He ventured, a bit more confident.  
"Upper East Side- Born and raised." He put plainly, "I'm saving up for my own place. Not there, particularly, but somewhere that isn't the street."  
Kurt fixed the corn of his sheet and then mirrored Blaine's position.  
"What about you, Ohio? Do you have any plans?" He yawned. Kurt shook his head shamefully.  
"It's all just a bit daunting right now."  
Blaine nodded compassionately.  
"How bout you come with me tomorrow?" He offered, "On my route. I'll show you around so you can get your bearings. Maybe we can even go job hunting. How does that sound?" He settled himself in.  
"Great." Kurt complied whispering back and unsurely tucked himself in.  
"Awesome." Blaine yawned, "Tomorrow's gonna be a good day, Kurt. Just you wait."  
"I hope you're right." Kurt rested his head.  
"Hey, Blaine?"  
"Hm?"  
"Thanks."  
"Goodnight, Kurt."  
"Goodnight."

* * *

_Boring. OMG this chapter was so boring. Kurt is shaken and unsure, which is so boring because he has so much personality that I totally going to right as he and Blaine become more comfortable around each other. There will be depth and I honestly hope you guys don't judge by this chapter how the rest will be. I hate establishing chapters but it's gotta be done, unfortunately, or else you have a bunch of personality and circumstance that isn't at all fitting for the character or the emotional feel and urggghhh it's so boring. And I know how unlikely it is that he meets someone like Blaine on his first night, I originally had written Blaine in after the first week, but then I was like 'who wants to read a bunch of description about new york and Kurt being lonely?' So I cut it. and now its boring andn;ganio';fwanjg;fws;oDNO';GRFEIDO;EDAN;K Sorry, my rant is over. _

_On a further note, I'd really like to thank all of you how reviewed on the first chapter. It really means so much to me, and I really appreciate all of you! So, much love to each and every one of you. If you'd like to review again, or for the first time, all the power to you and I'm always grateful. Either way, thank you. _

_Also! I don't tend to beta or proofread before a post, but if it bugs you, honestly, feel free to inbox/pm me and grammar or spelling mistakes that stick out to you, and I'll just slip in and fix them and give you a shout out to say thanks! I'd be very grateful. Cause really, proofreading and beta ing? Ain't nobody got time for that. _

**_~Holleigh_**


	3. Move On

'Hey Sunshine, gotta get up and get going, morning rush starts in an hour." Blaine shook him gently, waking him up bright and early, like a school day. When Kurt sat up, Blaine cocked his head in confusion.

"What are you dressed for?" He chuckled, gesturing to Kurt's ensemble. He hadn't even noticed that he was still in his suit from prom. He blushed at the comment, and fished into his back back for the only other clothes he had- a v-neck, a button up, jeans, a light sweater, and a worn pair of black converse.  
"Forgot to change." He muttered.  
"Something tells me you've got a long story behind you." Blaine offered a hand to help him up.  
"And ahead of me," Kurt agreed, "So lets get to it."  
Following Blaine's lead, they both took advantage of the of the warm showers and breakfast. Kurt changed and backed his suit away, unceremoniously. They both left donations on their way out. It wasn't much, but it was what they could give.  
"So, how old are you?" Blaine asked as he and Kurt walked along the sidewalk towards what Kurt assumed was Grand Central Station.  
"Sixteen." He answered.  
"I'm seventeen." Blaine nodded.  
"How long have you been-"  
"Few weeks. He cut off, "I'm actually not sure. I sort of lost track."  
Kurt nodded and continued walking silently wondering what had happened to Blaine that he was seventeen and homeless, with nowhere to go in the whole city. He didn't ask. He didn't want especially when Blaine had been so respectful as to not force answers out of Kurt about his own past. Then again, Kurt wondered why Blaine hadn't asked.  
"Why-" He took a breath, "Why haven't you asked me about what happened? Why I'm here?"  
Blaine's pace slowed a bit, and for the first time, his perpetual smile faltered slightly.  
"Well," He he tossed a weary glance to Kurt, "I figure it's got something to do with the bruises, though I could be wrong. But whatever it was, it was enough to run you right out of Ohio. So from what I can see, whatever it is you're running from, you probably don't want to talk about it." He assumed and then looked back to Kurt, "Besides, it''s in the past now. So, what does it matter?"  
Kurt nodded looking to the concrete, and they walked in silence for a distance until he spoke up.  
"You're wrong."  
"Pardon?" Blaine slowed.  
"I didn't run away." He denied boldly, and looked up to Blaine, "I ran towards something."  
Blaine completely stopped and absorbed what Kurt had said. Suddenly, his signature smile reappeared.  
"I like that."  
Kurt matched his smiled and Blaine turned to reach the door to the station. He held it open and Kurt bowed his head in thanks before entering.  
His mouth fell open at the site. All around were people and lines and stairs and lights. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It beautiful. It was... well, grand.  
"What do you think?" Blaine asked smirking at the expression Kurt's face.  
"Well, it's wasn't misnamed."  
"Come on, the rush is almost here." He took Kurt's shoulder and pulled him to a specific spot where he laid down his guitar case, and pulled out his instrument.  
The first few chords were like a flame, the people quickly turned into moths, passing by, and dropping loose change like it was nothing. Blaine smiled and wink and worked the crowd, effortlessly singing rich and calming tones. Kurt watched, mesmerized with envy. He wished he had Blaine's talent, his charm. He wished he looked like Blaine or that maybe things would come easier to him. After a few hours the crowds had dwindled, and Blaine had made more than enough money to get him through the day. Kurt was positively green. No, he could play guitar as well as Blaine, and he didn't have a show stopping voice. In fact the only one that knew he had a voice at all was his shower head back home. Kurt could play piano. That's what he could do, but what did that matter? He didn't have one. He couldnt play it on the streets. What was the point of being good at something if no one ever knew?  
Blaine approached him, having packed up his guitar and revenue for the morning. Kurt applauded kindly and Blaine's cheeks heated up.  
"Not bad for a Saturday morning." He shrugged.  
"Not bad at all." Kurt agreed.

"So Kurt." Blaine took a bit out of the pretzel he'd bought from a vender for lunch in the middle of the park. It too was beautiful. The leaves were falling and turning polychromatic  
"Do you have a last name?"  
"Oh," He coughed and shifted, "it's-um. It's Hummel."  
"Hummel?" His triangle brows rose.  
"Yeah." Kurt blushed. He'd never much cared for his name- first or last.  
"How fitting." Blaine smirked and took a sip of his drink.  
Kurt was about to question why when he took the opportunity to turn the question.  
"What about you?" Kurt turned.  
"What about me?"  
"What's your last name?" He nudged.  
"My last name? You mean a family name? For a family?" Blaine emphasized.  
Kurt nodded hesitantly, feeling nervous at Blaine's shift in tone.  
"I don't have a family. Not anymore, so I'm not sure I see the point."  
"Oh." Kurt shifted, feeling terrible for having brought it up, "I'm-"  
"But for what it's worth, it was Anderson." Blaine's demeanor changed once more, turning to Kurt and shooting him a smile. Kurt returned the gesture politely, though still confused.  
"Anderson. How fitting." Kurt muttered, ignoring Blaine's cocked eyebrow.

It was easy to understand why Central Park was Blaine's favorite. One a nice day, like this day, for example, parents would bring their kids to fun wild and free, in effort to wear them out so they'll sleep through the night. Couples would take walks, hand in hand, and some even packed a picnic lunch. People walked their dogs or waited in line for food from the venders. Hardly anyone was alone, which is probably what Kurt liked most about it. He felt a twinge of empathy, think about how Blaine must feel sitting here day after day by himself, and having no one to go home to. Scratch that- having not even a home to home to. the most he seemed to have was a friendly face at the open shelter. Though, his performer's smiled swiped the musings from his mind.  
The waterfront, where Blaine's 'spot' was, was lively. People rented small canoes and some even remind Kurt of the 'Kiss the Girl' scene from The Little Mermaid. It was, by all means, awesome.  
He didn't get up and roam around despite the urge. He sat on the edge of the fountain feeling like a child being carted around and waiting patiently as his mom did errands. When he thought about it, he had the rest of his life to explore the park, hell if things didn't improve he could even sleep here. He was perfectly content to people watch and make up stories about who they might be and why they were there until the sun began to sink and everyone made their way home... well, everyone but the two of them.  
"You see her?" Kurt asked Blaine as he approached, having packed up his winnings for the afternoon, and subtly pointed to a woman in a business suit. She was sitting at the water's edge with her feet soaking to her ankles and her heels places nicely at her side, "She's making a decision." Kurt informed. Blaine looked at him questioningly and back to the woman. How would Kurt have known this? He didn't see him get up and talk to her at all while he'd been playing. He was trying to subtly keep an eye on his new friend.  
"She has to make a big decision." He shrugged, "She's had it on her mind for a while, but she has to make it soon, so she came here, where there's no one to force their opinions on the matter. She's probably thinking about a dead relative- maybe her mom- would handle it. What she'd do. The decision comes with risk, as most do. You gain without giving, but still... She's torn between safety and freedom."  
Blaine blinked slowly not taking his eyes off the woman.  
"What if she makes the wrong choice?" He asked quietly.  
"_I chose, and my world was shaken- So what? The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not. You have to move on._" Kurt recited, shrugging.  
"You're a Sondheim fan." Blaine recognized quickly, only to have Kurt ignore the comment.  
"Look," Kurt redirected his attention to the business woman once more, "She's smiling."  
"She's gonna be okay?" Blaine asked like a hopeful child hearing a good story.  
"Who knows? But she's made her choice, and look how happy that alone has made her." Kurt smiled, and caught a glimpse of Blaine's thoughtful gaze still stuck on the smiling woman.  
"She's gonna be just fine." Kurt hesitantly placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
"So are we." Blaine agreed, and contently they left the woman and the park and moved on with the night.

* * *

_Gahh, okay so I'm gonna leave it up to you, do you want a time laps with this next chapter so we can move on to the more interesting parts or take it slow? I feel like I'm losing you with how slow it's going, but things will speed up as the Kurt-Blaine friendship becomes more established. _

_Please review? Please? I need suggestions._

**_~Holleigh_**


	4. A Breath of Light

They found no 'help wanted' signs as they walked towards the subway. Job hunting, Blaine explained, had been difficult as of late. They slept in the subway bathroom that night. There were no warm showers, no morning meals, and no places to hide. That night, Kurt would remember, was the most unsettling. The first night he'd felt truly homeless, but also the first one in a long time where he didn't feel completely alone.

* * *

On Sundays, people were the most generous, especially in the morning. Kurt blamed that on church, and Blaine strategically set up his station one corner over from a Church on Sunday mornings. Kurt didn't believe in God, he hadn't for a while. Blaine, though confessed that he wasn't sure, though he was certainly grateful that the people exiting the church did. Their faith gave them bigger hearts, possibly out of fear or for the wrong reason, but never the less, to it was Blaine's benefit.

* * *

A about week passed and through the days, Kurt strived to find ways to make money as the small amount he had dwindled down. He'd scratched out performing, that was better left to Blaine. He would never be able to bring himself to steal. There was always... you know, 'working the night.' But Kurt knew nothing about that department, and quite frankly didn't think anyone would want any part of him. Besides, he figured he'd have to be on the brink of death or starvation to even consider it seriously. So for now, he sighed pitifully at the thinning wallet.  
But where there was loss, there was also gain. Kurt and Blaine had grown ever so slightly closer as each hour passed. Blaine's favorite part of the day- at Central Park- was only enhanced by the anticipation he held for listening to Kurt's made up stories for the people he'd seen pass through the park. They'd play games and ask each other questions- nothing serious just enough to break some of the residual ice.  
Kurt had learn that Blaine started playing guitar when he was twelve; that his favorite color was aquamarine; that he had a love for reading and fantasy; that Blaine, about all else, was a dreamer. And a damn good one at that.  
Blaine had learned that Kurt had a lot to say, but rarely did; that Kurt had an art for reading people and understanding them; that his favorite food was cheesecake; and that no matter what, he could always manage to leave Blaine curious as to what he was thinking about.  
But most of all, in a time of instability, both boys felt like that had a constant to ground them.

* * *

There was crime in New York, though that was no surprise. What hurt though, was when Kurt would watch foreign couple ask some kid with a mohawk to take their picture, and the kid did, but he also took their camera and ran. Kurt often thought in that kind of situation, he'd be brave enough to stop the thief, but when it happened, all Kurt could think was 'Someone should do something' realizing moments later that he was somebody, and he could have done something.  
Mohawk seemed to get away every time, unscathed.  
Every night, after he'd seen something like that happen, he'd lay awake no matter where home was that night, he'd think about it. His conscience would berate him until he finally fell asleep.  
So, on Thursday afternoon, when Kurt saw a weary looking woman cutting through the park, undoubtedly on her way back from an errand, and the mohawk punk waiting with a preying looking on his face, Kurt knew he had to do something. Sure enough the mohawk darted through snatching the middle-aged woman's purse and ran off. Kurt, without moment's hesitation ran after him. Blaine may have stopped playing at this, but Kurt didn't notice. The chase was on, and Kurt having several years of practice running from the football team, definitely had the upper hand.  
When in range, Kurt took a leap of faith- literally- and successfully tackled the thief to the ground. He wrestled the handbag from Mohawk's clutches and Mohawk with a pissed off face threw Kurt off him and continued running.  
As he sat on the sidewalk ground, about a quarter of a mile from where he'd left Blaine, he couldn't help but feel pride in his heart for actually being the 'someone' who 'did something'. Having taken a moment to catch his breath, he climbed back to his feet and began to walk back to return it to the woman. He saw her rushing his way and smiled at the relieved and grateful look that scatter across her face. She was pretty for an older woman... well even for a woman. She wasn't stick-thin, which Kurt could appreciate. She looked like a mom which made him feel even better.  
"Oh my God, thank you so much! I don;t know what I would have done-" She gushed as he handed it to her humbly, "You have no idea!. You're a hero. You're an absolute hero. Thank you."  
"Happy to help." Kurt smiled genuinely. Her face fell a little at loss.  
"Is there anything I can do for you?" She asked. Kurt smiled and shook his head. she eyed him carefully, obviously taking in the dirty rumpled clothing, messy hair, and thinning boney frame of the young boy. The young boy who should have been in school.  
"When was the last time you had a full meal?" She ventured. Kurt's mouth hung open to find a lie, but nothing came out. The woman gave a knowing smile- yes, definitely a mother.  
"Here," She tapped his shoulder leading him her way, "I'll get you something to keep you warm."  
All of Kurt's protests ceased at the growling of his stomach.  
After they'd made it away from the crowded area, the woman began her interigation.  
"Why aren't you at school?" She asked.  
"I'm," Kurt paused searching for an excuse, "Homeschooled. I'm homeschooled."  
The woman nodded.  
"Are your parents here with you?"  
"No." He answered honestly, "No, they're not."  
"How about a name? You got one of them?" She teased.  
"Kurt." He said in his usual breathless tone.  
"Kurt," she repeated to herself, "Well then, Kurt, I'm Carole."  
"It's a pleasure to meet you Carole." He addressed sincerely.  
The woman stopped abruptly at a small cafe labeled 'Hudson's Bakery' and swung the door open.  
"Take a seat," She instructed, "I have something for you right out."  
She leaned to the girl working the counter and whispered something. Kurt looked around the place. It was intimate, and homey, completely mimicking the vibe the woman gave off. By the way she backed around the counter and began moving, fixing, and replacing, Kurt surmised that she was the owner... Well, at least he'd hoped she was.  
There were pictures and small inexpensive pieces of art and decoration that filled the walls and miscellaneous shelves. It was definitely family owned, he decided. His eyes wandered and that's when he saw it. The sign at the counter that read the two words that could potentially save his little life yet: 'Help Wanted'.  
"Here we are." Carole chimed bringing him plate with a large sandwich and a piece of bread.  
"Oh wow." Kurt was taken back by the gesture.  
"I apologize, food isn't really our specialty. We do mostly baked goods." She cocked her head to the display case of mouth watering deliciousness.  
"It's fine. I can't thank you enough." Kurt gratified, nearly unable to resist going all out caveman and shoving the food in his face as fast a possible.  
"Yes well, kind souls like yours are about as rare as an honest politician, so believe me when I say it's no trouble at all. Besides, you looked like you could use a good meal." She patted his arm across the table warmly. His heart ached missing his own mother. Kurt tried to stay quiet and gracious, as he took a bite. He held back a moan of indulgence. Carole laugh and took his expression as a compliment.  
"It's just a sandwich. You must not have had anything of substance in a while." She chuckled despite the mixed emotion on Kurt's face.  
"I have a son your age, I know how you eat." She smirked.  
"Yeah," He laughed nervously, feeling the welcomed warmth of the heater, "My mom isn't home much, so she doesn't cook. I've been trying to get better at it so i can starting taking care of myself but..." He glanced around, and his eyes never ceased to stick to the 'Help Wanted' sign. Carole followed his gaze and turned back to him with an inquisitive smile.  
"You want a job?" She raised an eyebrow.  
"Well, I mean if you're hiring, I'd love to apply-"  
"It's yours." She waved her hand.  
"I'm sorry?" Kurt sputtered.  
"I'm not gonna lie, it's not much," she warned,"but you'll be making some money and learning how to cook."  
"I- you don't know how much that would mean to me." Kurt's heart sped up.  
"I've got a good feeling about you, Kurt." She nodded to herself, "When can you start?"  
"Tonig-" He began to answer excitedly, but then remember he'd left Blaine alone in the park. He had to get back. He had to tell Blaine first, "Tomorrow. "He corrected.  
"8' o'clock." She gave and extended her hand. He shook it gingerly.  
"I have to go tell-" he stopped himself, "-my dad." He caught. "My dad, he's not going to believe this!" He grinned shamelessly.  
A proud glint crossed Carole's eyes.  
"Then take him some proof."

* * *

"Kurt, where have you been?! I was worried sick! I thought someone took you, or mugged you or-"  
"I know," He panted, trying to catch his breath,"I'm sorry. But here." He handed him the plastic container.  
" What's this?"  
"Celebration," Kurt declared as Blaine opened the container and saw the cupcake Carole had given him, "I got a job."

* * *

_So, things are getting better and I'm incorporating more characters. I'm trying to keep this moving, so I rushed through the first week of dreary nothingness (sorry). I'm going to a conference tomorrow, and have to be a on a bus for a couple of hours, giving me plenty of writing time, so if you'd like... you know... review, and tell me what you like for what you hate? I just really want to make this an enjoyable story for you guys cause you really deserve it. _

_~Holleigh _


	5. Ice To Meet You

Kurt relayed the story on their way to the subway. Blaine listened intently and savored his cupcake with mixed emotions. Kurt was smiling though. For the first time, Kurt was smiling with hope and excitement, and so in turn, Blaine could bring himself to feel jealous or uneasy. Kur was happy and for some indescribable reason, that made Blaine happy too.  
Kurt mentioned he had lied about his situation to Carole, much to Blaine's relief. He and Kurt were still minors, which meant that the feds had a right to put them in foster care if they knew. Blaine knew what it was like in those places. He'd spoken to enough of the kids stuck there to know. Iin the morning, on Blaine's way to Grand Central Station and Kurt's way to Hudson's Bakery, they stopped at the community fitness center and get cleaned up. Kurt changed into his button up white shirt and dress pants from the prom for his first day.  
"You clean up nice." Blaine eyed him as he was brushing his teeth in the sink. Kurt's hand slowed, and he looked up at Blaine, wonder if that was just an arbitrary compliment or... something more. Blaine didn't seem gay, but then again, if gaydar was highly unreliable. Blaine shifted awkwardly.  
"Sorry, that... that was weird." He looked away.  
"W-what? No, it's fine. Thank you." Kurt rushed focusing back on his hygiene. Blaine walked away to the mirror furthest from him, and now Kurt's mind was plagued with the musings that maybe Blaine was uncomfortable being around a gay guy. Sure, Kurt hadn't come right out and told Blaine- he didn't want to lose the only friend he had in his new life- so he toned down a lot of his more effeminate qualities just like he had at school. He tried not to speak much because he hated how high and girly it was. He bought the most plain and standardized outfit he could so no one would be able to pick him out of the crowd. Kurt had grown to like Blaine... a lot. And even if it was just friendship, he wanted to keep Blaine in his life, even if it meant repressing parts of himself.

* * *

Blaine looked almost forlorn when Kurt gave a gentle wave as their paths diverged and Kurt walked towards his new job, and Blaine stayed on his same route. He quickly brushed it off though. After he'd finished, he'd stop by the bakery and wait for Kurt to get done and then the two of them would find a place to sleep for the night.  
Kurt stopped in front of the Hudson Bakery's glass door, waiting for the jitters and anxiety to calm. for some reason, illogical scenarios always seemed to find their way into Kurt's imagination and plagued him with doubt.

_'What if Carole was just being nice, and didn't really mean it?', 'What if he was terrible at this?' 'What if she fired him after his first day?'_

_'What if he was late?'_ Oh God, what if he was late!

He pushed the door impulsively hearing the jingling of the welcome bells. The scent of fresh, delicious baked goods, and rich brewing coffee hit him in upon entry.  
Carole looked up, from her business with her recent customer in a hideous sweater vest and called him closer.  
"Well, there you are! Come here, get an apron. No time to get your feet wet. I'm throwing you right into the deep end."  
Kurt rushed over, behind the counter, ducking into the apron and rolling up his sleeves.  
"This man needs a medium, black, hazelnut coffee, a slice of pumpkin bread, and a blueberry muffin." She instructed, handling the man's money at the cash register. Kurt panicked a bit, before seeing the disposable coffee cups. He grabbed a medium one and poured, then secured the lid. He turned and placed it on the counter, and searched for the to-go bags as he opened the display case and picked up the tongs to retrieve a muffin with giant blueberries and a slice of pumpkin bread, as requested. He handed the bag and coffee to the curly haired man who smiled in appreciation.  
"See ya,Will." Carole waved as he left. She turned to him with a smile.  
"I knew I was right about you." She crossed her arms. Kurt cocked his head inquisitively.  
"You didn't even ask if it was or here or to go." She noted. Kurt's eyes widened.  
"Oh! I'm sorry!" He sputtered, "He looked like he was on his way somewhere- I just assumed-"  
"Relax, honey. He is." Carole placed a hand on his shoulder to ease him, "Most people on a Friday morning in New York are, but it never hurts to have to good instincts. That combined with your fast pace tells me you're gonna be just the Godsend I was hoping for."  
Kurt smiled brightly. It's been awhile since anyone had complimented him on his ability to do anything. It felt good.  
"That was Will Schuester, he stops here almost every morning on his way to work and orders the same thing." She began making more coffee. Kurt nodded, knowing that today was going to be great.  
Carole showed him the ins and outs, allowing him to refill the display case, and tend to costumers. Surprisingly, a lot of it came natural to him. Carole asked if he'd worked anywhere else before. He paused, thinking about the days he'd spent helping his dad in the car shop; the days his dad taught him how to change the oil of a Sedan or how to change a tire on a Honda, or how to deal will stubborn insurance providers. He remembered the time it had snowed in the middle of October and the scores of customers who came in the day after to get their anti-freeze put in. They were so busy that he and his dad didn't make it back home until midnight.  
A pang of grief hit his heart when he realised that now his dad had no one to help him out besides his paid employees who would demand over time. He'd have no one to teach, no one to rely on. Now, his dad would have to sit alone in the shop at midnight after a busy day, feeling nothing but abandoned.  
"No." He whispered finally trying to hid the hint of self loathing.  
If Carole noticed, she played off that she didn't quite well.

* * *

At around three, just as Kurt was rearranging the sugar cookies, the door opened and a very pretty blonde girl walked in. She took an apron and a place behind the counter, not before eyeing Kurt suspiciously. Before Kurt could explain, the door swung open again, and in walked a very tall teenager in a letterman jacket, carrying two backpacks.  
"Thanks for waiting." He said to the blonde then caught sight of Kurt as well.  
"Wh-"  
"Hey, sweetie." Carole waltzed out from the kitchen and greeted the giant.  
"Hey, Mom." Said Stilts.  
Oh. So he was-  
"How was your day?" She asked out of obvious routine  
"Fine... Who's that." He acted as if Kurt couldn't hear them.  
"This is Kurt. It's his first day." She placed her hand on Kurt's thin shoulder, "Kurt, this my son, Finn."  
"Oh, sup man?" Finn gave a nod at him and dropped his bag next to a chair. Kurt responded with a friendly and slightly awkward smile.  
"And this is his girlfriend Quinn, she works here part-time." Carole introduced.  
"Hi." Kurt extended his hand to the stunning girl, but when she held her icy glare and made no move to accept it, he dropped it and looked away feeling shut down.  
"Kurt, why don't you come to the bake with me? I'll show you how to ice." Carole tapped him and led him through the doors to the kitchen.  
"Don't mind Quinn. She hasn't been herself for the past two weeks." She explained pulling out two sets of disposable gloves for them, "It's nothing personal."  
"How old is Finn?" Kurt asked out of curiosity. Judging by his looks, he would have guess early twenty's, but seeing as he was still wearing a letterman, it could very well have been that he was still in high school.  
"Seventeen." She answered, "He's the football team's quarterback. Quinn's head cheerleader."  
'Perfect.'' Kurt thought bitterly and slipped on the gloves.  
"You must be very proud." He complimented as Carole filled the icing bag.  
"Yeah, well, I would be if he wasn't flunking." She began to jerk the icing around to create a flower petal or sugar, "And I'm sure I care too much for Quinn, but whatever makes him happy."  
Kurt was slightly bemused at Carole's openness. It was almost as if she considered him an old friend. Maybe she was lonely and didn't have many people to vent to. Maybe her husband disagreed and liked the fact that their son was living every high school boy's dream... well, almost every high school boy's dream.  
"My dad would probably be overjoyed if he found out I was a quarterback." Kurt felt obligated to share a bit to make Carole feel as though she could confide in him.  
"You don't strike me as the football player type." She noted, finishing the last petal of the flower and placing the icing bag in his hand, "Here give it a try."  
"Oh, I'm not. Not by a long shot," He chuckled, "Though, I wasn't bad."  
"You played?" Carole's eyebrows rose.  
"For a couple of games," He scoffed, trying the same technique she'd just showed him, "They needed someone to fill in for kicker."  
"You're kidding." She said in disbelief.  
"Yeah, well, then again, I was also a cheerleader so, I've seen both sides of the coin." He finished the last petal. Carole was laughing, her eyes filled with complete amusement. Never once did Kurt fear he'd said too much. He felt as though no matter what he said, Carole wouldn't judge him or show him any inkling of destain. She was by all means open hearted and accepting, much like his father had been. In fact, the two probably would have gotten along swimmingly.  
"Well, you're certainly a man of many talents." She put her hands on her hips and nodded to the perfectly replicated iced flower. Kurt gleamed down on it in pride.

* * *

Quinn ignored Kurt the entire rest of the shift. Carole would address her, asking her to do the dishes or to sponge some tables, and she would do so, but other than that, she kept to herself. He decided to take Carole's advice and paid no mind to her frigid demenor.  
As he and Carole bonded over the training, he began to learn more about the Hudsons. Finn's father wasn't in the picture, though she didn't explain why. The two of them lived in the apartment above the bakery where the stairs in the back led to. She'd opened the bakery when Finn was born. She loved it, and now was concerned because revenue was dwindling and the only thing keeping it alive where the regulars like Will and the boys that came to flirt with Quinn. Kurt was quiet, listening as Carole went on about things. Even if Kurt didn't have a job there, he'd hate to see it circum to the decreasing popularity. He made a promise to himself, right there and then to think of as many ways possible to promote and attract customers so that Carole's dream wouldn't be lost.

* * *

_Okay, well, slowly but surely we're moving along. I can't wait to write more Hudson interaction. I'd really like to take a moment to thank all who reviewed. Honestly, you guys rock. um... Not much to say about this chapter except I hope you like it? I can't wait to right what hell erupts when Kurt is left alone at the bakery. I'm trying to get away from all the burdening angst. There will be more. Oh- believe me there will be a LOT more, but I really like to keep some stuff light hearted and fun. What do you prefer? _

_(PS please excuse there terrible chapter titles. Shout out to anyone who comes up with a better one) _

**_~Holleigh _**


	6. Smile

Blaine liked to smile, Kurt gathered. The temperature dropped day by day, and they're outlook- though better than Kurt's had been on the bridge a month prior, was still bleak. Blaine liked to smile, especially when Kurt told him about work. Kurt liked working at the bakery. It made him feel useful. He liked baking and bonding with Carole, because deep in his mind he could feel that if his mother had lived, the two would have been like long lost sisters. Kurt liked to ice and design. Kurt liked to please people and smiled when he handed customers their coffee and crumpets. Kurt liked to turn the radio up in the back room when things were slow and draw outfit designs on napkins that he stuffed in his pockets. Kurt liked to wonder how uncomfortable Quinn must have been considering how large the stick up her ass was. Kurt liked to watch Finn's expression whenever he came home, and try to figure out why he was always so upset. Was he frustrated, confused, angry, or just tired?  
But most of all, Kurt liked to think about Blaine. He liked to think about how Blaine's face would light up when brought him the unsold leftovers from the display case that Carole gladly gave him for his 'parents'.  
Blaine liked to smile. And Kurt liked to make him smile.  
And Blaine liked that Kurt liked to make him smile, and he liked that Kurt was good at it.

Kurt did not like, however, that Carole started an extra part time job, and left him in charge as her only full-time employee. And he really didn't like the face that he had to spend part of that time alone with Quinn. Anytime she was around, he felt that maybe he would have to crank the heat up on the thermostat just to make up for it.  
But most of all, he didn't like that when he walked into the storage room and found Quinn crying, that he was the only one around to comfort her.  
"Go away." She spat whipping her eyes on a napkin. She pulled her knees closer to her chest.  
"I-I need flour." Kurt said dumbly.  
"Then take it and get out." She lashed.  
"Quinn-" He stepped closer to her, racking his mind for some way to get her to calm down.  
"Leave me alone, Burt." She sobbed shifted slightly at the title.  
"It's Kurt." He corrected quietly.  
"Whatever." She shook her head.  
"Burt's my dad's name." He mentioned absentmindedly.  
"Your dad's name Burt, and they named you Kurt?" She looked up incredulously.  
"Well, it's Robert but," He shrugged and took the opportunity to sink down to the ground next to her, "everyone just calls him Burt."  
"That's stupid." She mumbled.  
"You get past it." He pursed his lips.  
"Why are you here?" She asked.  
"I needed flour and you-"  
"No, why are you still here?"  
"Because even though you don't like me, I know it's easier when someone notices when somethings wrong." He didn't look at her, "It's easier when someone's there."  
There was a pause, as though Quinn was taking in the his words, and beginning to really appreciate that he-  
"You're gay, aren't you?" She quipped. Kurt shut his eyes in defeat and nodded. Well, at least she'd stopped crying.  
"Straight guys don't think like that." She explained, making Kurt feel slightly better. "Straight guys will screw you over, and leave you crying even though it's all their fault." She continued angrily and tossed a soiled napkin across the room.  
"Did Finn do something?" He ventured, picking up another napkin from the shelf and handing it to her. She took it and shook her head quietly.  
They receded to the silence for minutes before Quinn broke it.  
"I'm pregnant." Her voice came broken and almost drowning. Kurt's eyes widened, not certain if he had just hear her correctly.  
"What?" He looked at her. Her face contorted again and tears proceeded to fall once more as she nodded her head. Kurt had no idea was to do.  
"Um..." He sputtered. He figured 'um' was safer than 'congratulations' or 'that sucks'.  
"I don't know what to do!" She sobbed into her hands. Kurt hesitantly moved his hand to her should, still not certain that she wouldn't snap at him. Quite the opposite happened actually. She turned and leaned into him, sinking her head to his chest.  
Kurt had never had to comfort anyone like this before. The best he could do was try to replicate the things his father had done for him when he shattered.  
He his other hand up to embrace her while the other rubbed circles on her back. His dad had never been big on showing him too much physical affection, but whenever he did, it always seemed to calm Kurt the best.  
For a while he just let her sob; not asking any questions. She needed to get it out. But he'd be lying if sympathy was the only thing he was feeling. Part of his mind was telling him that no one was at the counter to help any of the sparse afternoon costumers they had. Another part was reminding himself that didn't quite like Quinn. Quinn certainly didn't like him, but right now she needed someone, and seeing as Kurt had a stronger pulse than the bag of flour next to her, he figured he could just have to suffice.  
"I'm sorry," She tried to collect herself and pulled away from his light hold.  
"For what? Being pregnant?" Had he mention he wasn't good with this stuff?  
"No," She answered incredulously, but not meanly, "Because I've been a jerk to you ever since you started here, and now I've just stained your shirt with mascara."  
Kurt looked down to see the black stain on his white shirt and tried not to sigh or show his disdain.  
"Which is probably because of the hormones." He offered. Quietly she nodded her head.  
"Have told Finn? Carole?" He asked quietly as if she were bomb of emotions about to erupt again. She shook her head once more.  
"Are you going to?" She looked up at him. Kurt shook his head in return.  
"No." He decided, "But I'll only say this, things are usually easier when there's someone who you can go through it with." He climbed off the ground and dusted off his pants.  
"What I mean is, that baby's father has a right to know. Give him a chance to come through, maybe he'll surprise you." She smiled sadly and nodded to herself. "That and sitting on floor in the storage room probably won't do you much good." He extended a hand to her. She looked at it for a moment before complying. He lifted her up with ease.  
"You're gonna be fine, Quinn." He patted her shoulder and turned to leave.  
"Kurt," She stopped him, "here." She passed him a bag of flour.  
And through the quiet he heard the most quiet, yet sincere "Thank you."  
She brushed past him, back to the main counter where in bittersweet relief, no one had come in.  


* * *

  
Kurt kept his word, not telling Carole or Finn despite his best judgement. He did not however make a promise regarding Blaine.  
"She's pregnant?" He asked sipping on the left over lukewarm Kurt had brought him after work.  
"And ungodly hormonal." Kurt joined. The two of them sat on a bench and watched people pass by as they chatted. Blaine chuckled at Kurt's tone.  
"I guess no one really has it easy." He mused.  
"I'll drink to that." His friend agreed.  
"Finn doesn't even know but he seems just so unhappy all the time." He added, "Then again, no one really seems that happy."  
Blaine paused mid-sip for a moment considering this, "You do."  
"I do?" Kurt cocked his head. Blaine nodded.  
"You barely spoke at all when we first met. You seemed like you were always terrified and uncertain. But now you face is healing up, you're finding purpose. Hell, Kurt, you're a homeless teenage boy and you're comforting a very privileged head cheerleader." He gave an amused smile, "It seems to me that despite what you've been through- what you're going through." He corrected, "You are a lot better off than most people in your position would be."  
Blaine took a bite of a slightly stale croissant. "You're strong, Kurt."  
"Just give it a while," Blaine's mood shifted and Kurt could ignore the faint bitter tone in his voice, "You're gonna be a lot better off than the rest of us."  
For some reason the tone left Kurt feeling uncomfortable, and obligated to assure Blaine of his own hopeful future.  
"We both are." He said softly with gentle eyes and optimistic smile.  
Blaine said nothing, but smiled back unconvincingly.  


* * *

  
Quinn didn't tell Finn for another week. And though Kurt was not there to witness, he could feel it the second they walked into the bakery. The tension was thicker than the cheesecake he'd just finished cutting. Kurt had been interested in getting to know Finn better but in the wake of this news, he was fairly certain that saying anything to Finn would get him punched- no matter how friendly. A week later, Finn cracked told Carole. The next day, Carole told Kurt and he had a second chance at comforting when Carole's sturdy walls broke down and lamented to him about how young Finn was. how the bakery was going downhill and they barely had enough money as it was. They couldn't support a child or Quinn, and Finn wasn't very bright. His outlook seemed bleak as it was, and now he was going to be a father.  
Kurt sat quiet and understandingly as Carole's overwhelming words rung bringing life to the ones Blaine had said weeks ago.  
No one who deserved it had it easy.  
Carole was a lot more loving towards Quinn, though the girl shied away from it. She gave quinn easier shifts and less work which Kurt was alright with. But one day, Quinn didn't show up at all. Neither did Finn. Carole was off working her other job and Kurt was there... Alone. Luckily it was just as slow as any other day. Almost dead. He and Quinn had gotten friendlier, so they'd pass the time by chattering about mindless things, but now he was just bored. So, after cutting out more flower shaped cookies they would ever be necessary, he was itching to do something more amusing. That's when Kurt decided to do what used to do back home when he'd make dinner before his dad got home. He cranked up the radio, and let loose. Truth was, Kurt loved to perform. He absolutely craved song and performance. It was probably one of the things that attracted him to Blaine so strongly, though he'd never dare think of that.  
This was the first time Kurt had a moment alone- which was great, but he sort of miss the 'me time' he had to do stupid things like this in the comfort of his own space.  
It was a Rihanna song. That's all he needed. The music was loud and beating like his heart. He got completely carried away. It was a rush, and he was singing his heart out into a stirring spoon, and at one point ended up jumping on the counter during a key change. It felt amazing to use his voice again. It was moments like these where he didn't quite remember why he'd ever become so afraid of it. So maybe it sounded girly, but it felt amazing and who was actually going to hear him?  
Who besides the small crowd of customers who had managed to sneak in during the song and watched enthusiastically? Who besides them and the people outside the window looking in and applauding would ever hear him?  
He was mortified, though the applause felt like a proud hug. His shenanigans had caught the attention of passer-by and now he had to live with the shame and guilt of the ridiculousness that plagued him and he tried so hard to stifle. He sheepishly climbed down from his place on the later that led up to the top cabinets that held the sprinkles he'd been in the process of retrieving.  
To his surprise, most of the people even stayed to stand in line. It was more business than they'd had all week put together. He tried to ignore the broad smiles on the patrons' faces and the scarlet red that painted his heated cheeks.  
"If you bake as well as you sing, I'll take a dozen of those flower sugar cookies." A woman complimented and Kurt served her right away.  
"Is there a show everyday? I'd love to bring my wife. She'd get a kick out it." Another man asked ordering a block of sticky buns.  
"Maybe we should have the bridge club meet here for tea!" An older woman said to her friend as they ordered a two scones and a cheesecake.  
When the line had dwindled, Kurt was almost out of everything he'd baked that day. He felt embarrassed but also extremely accomplished. Carole would be ecstatic with the revenue. She certainly deserved something good after the month she'd been having. He just needed to be sure not to tell her how it had come about.  
He honestly never dreamed that music could be so magnetic. A bit of music hd brought people inside and then they noticed the baked goods and decided to try some, and Kurt was certain he heard at least half of the customers moan in indulgence after taking a bit of their food. He was certain most of them would come back sooner or later after tasting what he'd made. All it took was a smidge of live entertainment and a little bit of music.  
Music. Live entertainment. Kurt nearly dropped the cookie tray at the epiphany.  
He knew how he was going to save the Hudson Bakery.

* * *

_Sorry it took so long for the update! I started it Thursday but didn't finish, and Friday was my birthday, and Saturday was my sister's birthday and Sunday I built ikea furniture, and Yesterday I took a sledge hammer to the Ikea furniture. I AM NOT A CARPENTER. Anyway, I'm trying to make things look up because who doesn't want a bit o happiness in holiday season? Especially when Klaine is broken and (SPOILER ALERT) Burt has cancer? We need some good things, even if they're fictional or fanffictional. _

_Real quick thought, wouldn't Nestor Carbonell be the perfect actor to play Blaine's dad, or is that just me? _

_Also Thank you to all who reviewed! It makes my heart swell with caramel and chocolate fondue when I get response so thank you and please let me know what you think!_

_~Holleigh_


	7. Just Haven't Met You

"Music?" Carole cocked an eyebrow.  
"Live music!" Kurt confirmed excitedly nodding his head.  
"You think that music will attract more customers." She deadpanned.  
"I know it will." Kurt corrected confidently, "The proof is in the sales." He boasted and handed her the sales chart he'd made up showing the jump on the day he'd been there all alone.  
"What exactly do you do when I'm not here?" She smiled, half-joking.  
"With the extra revenue, it will be more than enough to pay the musician and give you and Finn more than comfortable cushion."  
"Give it one day, Miss Carole." He begged, "One day, and if you don't like it, it'll never happen again."  
Kurt had a mini-flashback to when he'd begged his dad to let him re-decorate the living room. His dad had given him the same haphazard look Carole was now. But based on the smile on Carole's lips which was identical to the one his dad had had, Kurt knew she would cave."  
"I suppose you have someone in mind?" She handed the sheet back to him. He jumped a bit in excited success.  
"He's absolutely amazing. You won't be disappointed. In fact," He looked to the clock, "I can go get him now." He announced, grabbing his coat without even bothering to take his apron off. He heard Carole chuckle and call out to him, but it was drowned out by the sound of the door bells jingling over his head as he ran out.  
It was almost three, which meant by the time he got back, Quinn and Finn would be there. but more importantly, it meant that Kurt had to get to Central Park. He ran as fast as he could with his heart fluttering with excitement. Finally, some good news they could share.  
"Blaine!" Kurt called upon approaching. Blaine was in the middle of a song when he heard him. He looked up and saw Kurt's beaming face and he ran towards him.  
"Blaine!" He closed in.  
"Kurt, what are you-" Blaine started but was cut off by his friend grabbing his wrist.  
"Come on!" Kurt pulled, "Come on! Come on! Good things are happening!"  
"Easy! Easy!" Blaine laughed pulled him back but Kurt didn't let go. Blaine had hoped he wouldn't, "What's going on?" He asked looking to either of Kurt's childish eyes.  
"You might have a job!" He explained, "But we have to hurry!"  
"Okay! Okay! Let me get my case." He tried to cool, but Kurt could see the flicker of hope hiding in Blaine's carmel eyes.  
Kurt jumped up and down anxiously as Blaine shuffled to pack up his case, and left the guitar strapped around his back. He struggled to keep up as Kurt took off down the path, back to the city.  
"Kurt! Would you slow down? Jeez! You're gonna get hit by a car!" He called out, desperately following Kurt's wake.  
"Hurry up!" Kurt tossed over his shoulder as he approached the bakery door, he waited impatiently for Blaine to jog his way up to next to him. Kurt held to door open and Blaine walked in, cautiously, the overwhelming smell of apples and cinnamon mingling with chocolate and vanilla with a hint of coffee hit him first. The warmth caressed his face, like a welcoming hug, and made it easier to catch his breath. The jingles on the door rattled once more as Kurt stepped in behind him. He snuck up behind Blaine and slipped the jacket off his shoulder as he glanced around. Finn was the only one at the tables. He'd treated himself to slice of pie Kurt had made that morning. Quinn was cleaning off a table and Carole was changing the filter of the coffee maker. She looked up and smiled at both of them.  
"So you're the musician?" Carole asked looking at Blaine. Blaine was caught completely off guard. She motioned to his guitar case, and caused him to look down. He looked at it almost like it wasn't real or like he'd forgotten it was there. He then turned to look at Kurt who was slipping his own coat off and hanging it next to Blaine's. Kurt nodded enthusiastically.  
"I-" Blaine turned back to Carole, "I suppose I am." He shrugged, and put the case down, trying to hid the sound of clanging change inside. Kurt stepped up to put Blaine a ease.  
"Carole, this guitar and vocalist extraordinaire, Blaine Anderson." Blaine looked at Kurt incredulously, but politely extended his hand to Carole.  
"It's a pleasure." He smiled. Carole she shook his hand gingerly.  
"Your hands are freezing. How about a cup of coffee?" She offered but didn't wait for his answer before she turned to fill a cup. Kurt led him to the same table Carole had sat him down at the first time he'd come to the bakery. Carole came around the counter and placed the coffee in front of him; taking the seat across like she had with Kurt.  
"You seem familiar, Mr. Anderson." She noted looking him over, "You don't go to school with Finn, do you?"  
Blaine looked over Carole's shoulder to see the boy she'd been referencing.  
"No, he doesn't." Finn answered looking up at him.  
"Well, I'm certain I you from somewhere..." She leaned back, "It'll come to me eventually. But let's get to the matter at hand."  
"Kurt here seems to think live music would attract more business." She motioned to Kurt who was now nodding earnestly from behind the counter. Carole chuckled a bit at the glee on his face.  
"Now, I'm not certain, so we're going to try it out for a day or two and see how things go." She explained. Blaine nodded understandingly, while holding the coffee and feeling the heat pour into his frozen fingers.  
"I trust Kurt's judgement, though. And seeing as he holds you with such high regard, I hoping that you might be what we need." She smiled gently. "I can pay you seven- fifty and hour for the trial days you are here. If all goes well, I'll offer you a full-time position with better pay. But for now, how's your schedule looking?"  
"I'm free." Blaine answered much too quickly. Carole was taken back but nodded happily.  
"Well then, Mr. Anderson, why don't you audition?" She gestured to the small area with a stool she'd set up while Kurt had gone running off.  
Finn and Quinn both peaked up, to watch. Blaine nodded, as if accepting a challenge and stood swinging the guitar over to his front. He made his way to the stool, not quite taken with the idea of sitting down while he performed. His music wasn't a stationary thing, it in itself was a movement. He always did have a problem staying in one place. He met the stool and turned around. Kurt had come out from behind the counter holding a rag cloth, and stood next to Carole.  
'Don't hold back.' He mouth silently, making Blaine grin and his cheeks flush. Blaine pushed the stool back further behind him in a subtly as he could with respect. He took a deep breath and all the heat in his body rushed to his face and fingers as he strummed the first few chords.  
_"I'm not surprised. Not everything lasts. I've broken my heart so many times, I stopped keeping track."_ Both Quinn and Finn stopped what they were doing completely and watched Blaine continue.  
_"I talk myself in. I talk myself out. I get all worked up and I let myself down."_ Carole smiled and Blaine's confidence dug it's way out of the little cave it had been hiding in.  
_"I tried so very hard not to lose it."_ He sang to Quinn, cranking up the dapper charm. She simply blushed in response. _"I came up with a million excuses."_ This time it was directed at Finn, who smirked and put down his pencil.  
_"I thought I thought of every possibility."_ Kurt's heart might as have melted and dripped down his ribs when Blaine locked eyes with him and sang.  
_"And someday I know it will all turn out. You'll make me work so we can work to work it out."_ He strummed happily and took another step closer to the tables.  
_"And I promise you, kid, that I give so much more than I get."_ He stopped right in front of Carole, who was beaming.  
_"I just haven't met you yet."_  
He finished the first chorus. As Kurt looked around he saw Finn bobbing his head along to the rhythm and Quinn sitting on a table, swinging her legs in tandem.  
_"I might have to wait. I'll never give up."_ Blaine shrugged in relation to the lyrics, _"I guess it's have timing, the other half's luck."_  
"Wherever you are, whenever it's right," He made his way next to Quinn, who for some reason, couldn't help blushing, _"You'll come out of nowhere and into my life."_  
Kurt felt something in his gut twist. Surely Blaine didn't like Quinn... right? Kurt had told him that Quinn was pregnant and moody and- and with Finn. But then again, Kurt noted, she was very beautiful. Stunning, even. But would Blaine flirt with a pregnant, unavailable teenage girl simply because she was pretty? For some reason Kurt thought Blaine more dapper or credible than that. He'd always imagined Blaine with a pretty girl, true, but also smart, funny, nice, talented, and- and everything Blaine deserved.  
_"And I know that we could be so amazing,"_ He drifted away from her as he continued, easing Kurt's inexplicable jealousy,  
_"And being in your life is gonna change me. And now I can see every single possibility."_  
Blaine's showman ship was inspiring, though. He was true born performer. He was able to convey so much with his face. Kurt could only imagine what he'd be able to do with his hands... you know... not playing guitar... no- no, not like that! Performing! Performing songs and maybe he'd be able to dance if he wasn't weighed down with his guitar, though admittedly Blaine did move quite well with the minor handicap.  
_"They say all's fair in love and war."_ Good Gershwin, Blaine was letting loose. He sounded more passionate and powerful than he ever had playing the streets. _"But I don't need to fight. We'll get it right it. We'll be united!"_  
And like that, Blaine was digging the instrumental, dancing around. He motioned for Quinn to get up and join, and oddly enough, she did... and gladly too. Finn, probably out of jealous, got up and took her by the hand and spun her around. He was laughing and Finn was smiling too. They continued to dance, and Kurt looked behind him to see a small crowd of people entering the shop and and even larger one peering through the window. He tapped Carole's shoulder and she turned around almost completely floored. She rushed to hand out samples to interest clients. They took them without any convincing, some even began to order, trying to keep their eyes on Blaine, who was now standing on a table, overwhelmed with the theatrics.  
Kurt tried to contain his excitement, but when he turned around Blaine's eyes caught his immediately as he started the slowing bridge. He took a step down to the chair and to the floor not moving his gaze as he approached.  
_"And some day I know it'll all turn out."_ It was like his voice was a cashmere sweater on his thin shoulders, _"And I'll work to work it out."_  
_"Promise you kid,"_ Oh, now Kurt could positively feel Blaine's heavy breath that smelled of the coffee Carole gave him,_ "I'll give more than I get."_ Kurt was in such a trance, he didn't even notice as Blaine backed up faster and faster as the song picked up. _"Than I get, than I get, Than I get!"_  
Blaine played most of the rest of the song to the audience who had now swarmed the rest of the cafe, taking seats with their coffee and desserts. By the end, he had the entire audience clapping along to the descant of 'Love, love, love, love'.  
And at the end a roar of thunderous appreciation. Kurt tossed his rag over his shoulder and joined. Blaine was out of breath and smiling even broader than Kurt thought was possible. He once again looked to Kurt for confirmation. Kurt turned to Carole who was handling as many customers as she could. She did, however, catch him looking and gave him a grateful smile and a nod. Kurt's cheeks were burning from his wide grin as he turned back to Blaine and nodded as if to say: 'You're in.'  
It looked like Blaine had just won the world and had a suffocating weight lifted from his chest. His face was pure gratitude.  
As the applause died down, Carole called Kurt and Quinn over to help, and motioned from Blaine to do another song. He took the stool and began a calmer one, yet still captivating his audience.  
Kurt worked busily the rest of the night, completely overjoyed. Things were really looking up.

* * *

**__**_Long chapter is long. This story is turning out to be a lot less exciting than I had originally thought... It fells to slow and boring I really want to pick it up, but it- i - ugh... I don't know how. It's frustrating. If you have any comments or suggestions, I'd love to hear them. Flames are more than welcome too. I'm so conflicted.  
~Holleigh?_


	8. Help

"So much better than being out in the freezing cold." Blaine shivered, taking off his coat the next day, after following Kurt to the bakery.  
"Yeah, I know," Kurt followed suit, "And now I actually have someone to talk to."  
Blaine smiled in recognition as Finn and Carole tromped down stairs.  
"I don't want to hear it Finn Christopher!" She waved him off, putting on her coat, "Hi boys." She greeted the two as she buttoned up the coat and handed Kurt the keys.  
"But Mom-" Finn protested.  
"Finn, if you don't get your grades up, how do you expect to graduate?" She scolded and her son rolled his eyes.  
"How do you expect to get a job without a degree? You're going to be a father soon, Finn! You have to start to think about these things!" Finn shook his head grabbing his own coat.  
"I have! Mom!" He shot back, "I don't know what to do! I'm trying! I really am but I just- ugh! I suck!"  
Carole remained silent, but still had the look of disappointment on her face.  
"If you'll excuse me, I guess I'll go to school so I can screw up some more!" He yelled and stormed out of the door.  
"Yeah, well, you may need your backpack!" Carole called after picking up his school bag and leaving. Kurt and Blaine had just enough time to look at each other before she popped her head back in, and put on a sweet smile.  
"Have a nice day, boys."  
And left again.  
"Again, someone to talk to." Kurt reiterated.

* * *

Kurt took the chalk board that said the specials that nobody ever bought and erased it.  
In it's place, he used his own kaligrafi to write "Live music by Blaine Anderson" and a few specials underneath. He put it in the window so people passing by would see.  
Blaine didn't play in the mornings. In his experience, no one in the morning had time to sit and listen. So, Blaine had become accustomed to 'helping' Kurt in the bakery during the less busy hours.  
"What can I do?" He offered as Kurt was cautiously pulling out some freshly baked cookies from an oven.  
"Um... If you want throw on an apron, you can start on the dry mix for the shortbread." Kurt handed him a bowl. Blaine nodded trying to feign interest to cover up the fact that he had no idea what he was doing. He wasn't about to let Kurt know that. He wanted to impress Kurt and looking as clueless as a cat with a cannole was not impressive. He mosied over to the ingredients and the beater. Shortbread, huh? He'd only ever had shortbread when it was girl scout cookie season... But they had what? Sugar? He poured two cups of white sugar in. And... and what? Flour? He pour two cups before remembering the time he'd made Christmas cookies with his aunt. He told him that the amount of flour doubled the sugar... So two more cups of flour? He tossed them in... Three, he decided. Just to be sure.  
Dry mix... Dry mix... what else do you put in a dry mix? Was shortbread supposed to be complicated? Salt! His mind yelped. He gave proud grin for remember such an overlooked ingredient. He poured a quarter of a cup in, and then again, double the flour... to be sure, you know? And- and confectioner's sugar! Two and a half cups of that!  
He took a step back. That looked dry enough, right? All he had to do now was mix it. But forget Kurt Hummel if he thought Blaine was such an ameture that he needed to use a spoon. No, Blaine was going to show off his skills with the beater... that he'd never used before.  
He carried the bowl over and set it under the two prongs.  
On one side it said "Low" and the other said "High."  
Well, he wanted it to be high quality, right? Better put it on high. He hit the "High" button. Not moment later, the apocalypse came. There was a flash of white and he couldn't see anything. Flour dust culminated, lingering and congregating in the air- and his lungs for that matter. He coughed at the dryness in his throat.  
"What the hell!" Kurt voice came hacking through the white abyss.  
"Kurt?" Blaine called out fanning the air around.  
"What did you do!" Kurt didn't sound angry, thank goodness, just surprised.  
"I-" Blaine hesitated, peering through the setting flour, he saw the outline of Kurt become clearer, "I don't know how to bake." He admitted.  
"Then why on Earth would you-" Kurt stopped at seeing as clearly as he could the white snowman looking mass that was once his best friend. Without thinking he he let out the most adorably uncontrollable giggle Blaine had ever heard. He slapped him hand over his mouth trying to stuffle it and not upset Blaine.  
Blaine blinked a few time until he could clearly see what now looked like the ghost of Kurt, covered in white powder.  
"Oh my God!" He was absolutely mortified. Kurt was going to be so pissed! Kurt's torso was still shaking from his silent fit of laughter.  
"You have a little-" He mangaged to get out, pointing to Blaine's hair. Blaine lifted a hand to shake some of the ingredients out of his curls.  
"Watch it!" Kurt ducked a bit to keep the flour from getting on his already coated face.  
"I didn't know it was possible!" Blaine laughed flicking some at Kurt, as he was ducking.  
"What?" Kurt picked up a cookie sheet as a shield. Blaine scooped up up some excess powder from the counter and tossed it at Kurt's makeshift shield.  
"For you to look even paler than usual!" He teased, and Kurt retaliated by sticking his hand in the bowl and grabbing a handful. He threw it and it exploded right in Blaine's beautiful face. Blaine coughed slightly at the attack.  
"Who's pale now?" Kurt smirked while laughing. Just then, Blaine put on his game face  
and it. was. on.  
It was war. It was a battle ground. It was madness.  
It was friendship.  
Their laughs filled the air in between bursts of banter and artillery. Blaine somehow ended up with a colander on his head, and a wooden spoon to use as a catapult. Kurt still had his cookie sheet and was ducking behind the cabinets. For the first time in longer than Kurt cared to remember, be was happy. He was laughing and care-free. He felt at home, even though he knew he wasn't, and may not be for a long time.  
Blaine dropped his spoon and helmet and and snuck up on Kurt from behind and all out tackled Kurt to the ground.  
Kurt's ribs hurt so bad, and he couldn't breath. But whether that was due to the fact that he'd been laughing hysterically or because Blaine Anderson was crushing him, he didn't know.  
Kurt reluctantly pushed Blaine off of him to avoid any awkward discomfort. Their hysterics died and the laid on the floor catching their breath and regaining their composure. They laid in a comfortable silence as both did their own bests to subtly hide their crimson stained powdered faces.  
"You know you have to clean this up, right?"  
"Me? You were just as much a part of this as I was!"  
"It's your fault for pretending you knew how to bake!"  
"It's your fault for letting me!"  
"Oh no! Not at all! Don't you try and rope me into this!"  
"You threw the stuff at me!"  
"You shouldn't have called me pale."  
"Hey, no, don't you leave me here with this! Kurt? Kurt!"  
"Clean it yourself, loser."  
"Kurt...! Kurt...?"  
"Have fun."  
"...Jerk."

* * *

Blaine did what he could (which wasn't very much) with the cleaning, then claimed that he had to set up to play. It was complete bull, Kurt knew, but smiled and shook his head incredulously and finished what was left.  
True to speculation, the Hudson Baker had a strong and steady flow throughout the day. It was most alive than Kurt had ever seen it. A few people even asked if they served lunch. They didn't. They used to, but Carole took it off the menu because it was so unpopular, but if there was a demand, maybe Kurt might be able to convince her to put it back on the menu. Kurt was being worked more, but it was good work. He felt like he was doing some good for Carole and Finn and Blaine and Quinn and Quinn's baby, and not just himself.  
Blaine was like a flame and the costumers were moths. They'd sit and watch him, often times throwing tips- dollars at a time, as opposed to the nickels and pennies he'd get on the street. They loved Blaine. And really, who wouldn't? When he stopped playing and singing to take breaks, the patrons would drift away having enjoyed his show, but slightly disappointed it was over.  
It was during one of these breaks when they only had one customer sipping coffee in the corner, that Quinn stormed in fuming. Kurt stopped sweeping and looked up at the disruptance.  
"Quinn? What's-" She brushed right past him and headed to the back room. Kurt shot a look to Blaine who shrugged back in response. The door chimes jingled again as Finn came through being tailgated by a short olive skinned girl with brown hair and eyes. Kurt tried not to stare though she was dressed like a slutty grandmother... and now that was an image he will never be able to get out of his head. Great.  
"Finn, I know you have football and your cheerleader girlfriend, but this is a partner project! And I feel as if Mr. Vandergrif did make us partners by coincidence. I think it was destiny." She babbled on quickly, not staying more than a foot away from him as he stormed around the tables to his usual spot.  
"Wait, what?" He paused giving her a look.  
"I-I just think that you and I could be really great. Together" She sputtered, "A-as lab partners."  
Blaine caught Kurt's eyes this time and gave him a look that show he was thinking the same thing as Kurt.  
This girl was a psycho.  
"Look, Rachel. I get it. You want to do well on this project. That's great and I'm really sorry but I'm just not good at this. Why don't you got partner with Artie? We'll switch partners, and I'll do the lab with Matt. That way, when I screw it up, it won't affect you?" It was obvious Finn was trying to be nice to her... That or maybe he really wasn't phased by the crazy.  
"But we- we're supposed to be partners." She sounded heartbroken.  
"Yeah, well that sucks cause I can't." Finn shook his head went back to shuffling through his book bag.  
"Sure you can. We can meet here after scho-" She places a hand on his shoulder before he snapped at her and flung it away.  
"You don't get it! Quinn is mad at me and I can't-"  
"Quinn's mad at everyone who doesn't bow down to her."Rachel muttered.  
"I'm an idiot, Rachel! No matter how hard I study, not matter how hard I try I suck! I just can't get this right! I don't want to take care of anything new or- or try to help you! I just want to fix what I have and I can't even do that cause I'm such a screw up! So stop being such a little perfection freak and just leave me the hell alone!" Finn yelled- actually yelled as at Rachel who was now about to cry. Kurt almost felt inclined to try to comfort the little weirdo, but then, with tears stuck in her eyes, she came back with this:  
"You seem to care a lot about a girl who'd pregnant with someone else's child."  
With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out dramatically with her head held a little too high to be real.  
It was dead silent.  
And and tense (excuse the pun) pregnant pause hung in the air.  
Finn's face morphed from disbelieve to confusion to fear and then into melting pot of all three.  
Then angrily kicked a chair over and ran up the stairs to his apartment. Leaving his bag abandoned at the small cafe table.  
Kurt and Blaine looked to each other silently before Blaine nodded to the one customer who had witnessed it all.  
"Better than cable." He smirked looking at the boys and took a sip, "Could I get some more coffee?"

* * *

****_So... Happy New Year? Plot progressing. I'm in desperate need for a beta for any of my fics so... if you'd like to volunteer... I'll make you goodies? I had some Klaine fluff and some Quinn-Finn-Rachel drama... good? bad? Thank you to the people who reviewed. It really motivates and encourages me, so thank you guys! _

_Please review?_

_~Holleigh_


	9. Wise Men's Lies

"Do you think it's true?" Blaine asked, sitting on the stoop of the library building where he and Kurt snuck in and slept the night before.  
"Do I think what's true?" Kurt took a bite from the bagel Blaine had bought him with his spare change, "About Quinn?"  
Blaine nodded, not conveying any really emotion but curiosity.  
"I don't know," Kurt shrugged playing it coy, "Why? You like her?"  
Blaine looked confused for a moment before letting out a laugh and shaking his head.  
"No," He exasperated, "No, not at all. Why? Do you?" He countered, suspiciously.  
"No." Kurt answered quickly, "I mean, we're sort of almost kind of friends but I don't- I don't have a crush on her if that's what you're inferring." He blushed at the false accusation.  
"Uh huh." Blaine passed disbelievingly.  
"I hope it's not." Kurt said quietly after a few moments. Blaine looked at him slightly lost from the other boy's train of thought.  
"True, that is. I hope it's not true. I mean, could you imagine? Carole going out of her way to help her in any way she can; Finn stressing under all that pressure." Kurt lamented. Blaine nodded taking in his words.  
"Maybe it was a rumor and that crazy girl just said that because she likes Finn." Blaine shrugged. That was Blaine for you, Kurt noted. Blaine always wanted to suspect the good in people, and give them the benefit of the doubt. Blaine wanted to believe that Quinn was a good person under stressful circumstances, but if his gut was telling him the same things Kurt was, he had that feeling of dread with the his instinct telling him he was wrong.  
"Yeah." Kurt falsely agreed and finished his breakfast.  
The two of them paid no more mind to the matter as they walked to work that morning.

* * *

The familiar jingle of the door chimed sounded as they entered the bakery and discarded their coats to the rack. Carole's footsteps fell heavy as she tromped downstairs.  
"Morning, boys." She greeted in a peculiar tone. They offered their greetings in response.  
"Where's Finn?" Blaine voiced the question on both of their minds.  
"He said he's not feeling well, so he'd taking the day from school." She answered with a disappointed inflection.  
"Oh, well, I'm sorry he's not feeling very well, is there anything we can do?" Blaine offered with honest concern lacing his every syllable.  
"Actually," Carole grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder, "If you two wouldn't mind checking in on him every now and again, I'd appreciate it."  
"Sure." Kurt nodded.  
"Thank you, boys. Kurt, I have scones in the oven, if you wouldn't mind taking them out. Have guys a good day." She left through the door, not waiting to hear their 'you too's.  
"Cranberry scone says he's not really sick." Kurt bets Blaine as he pulled the tray out of the oven. Blaine looks slightly amused before raising his eyebrows.  
"I'll take some of that action." He agrees and followed Kurt as he placed a scone on a plate and made his way upstairs.  
The Hudson's apartment was... quaint. Nothin at all like Kurt would have picked, but still homey. It looked well lived in, there was clutter and mismatched furniture. A horrible broken armchair was in the middle of the living room next to a picture on a soldier in the same chair holding a baby.  
"Finn?" Kurt called into the apartment, "It's Kurt. Your mom went to work."  
Silence.  
"You can come out now. We're not gonna tell your mom that you skipped." Blaine chorused.  
Silence again.  
"Brought you food." Kurt tried.  
There was the sound of a door opening and the boys turned to find Finn emerging from what was presumably his room. He didn't look bad at all. Sure he was still in his pajamas and his bed head had something to be desired, but he didn't look pale or sick at all.  
"What kind?" He asked.  
"Um... it's a cranberry scone." Kurt answered handing him the plate. He took it and took a bite.  
"So, sick, huh?" Blaine shoved his hands in his pockets.  
"I had a test today." Finn explained, "I don't know anything. I can't fail another one or I'm screwed." He muttered not minding the crumbs falling from his lips.  
"Did you study?" Blaine asked.  
"Dude, are you kidding? I didn't sleep last night. I was up all night studying!" He argued, getting frustrated. Blaine backed off immediately. Kurt knew that Finn probably wouldn't have slept that night test or no after what Rachel said. There was no wonder why the kid couldn't pass a test. He couldn't focus. So study ad nauseum wouldn't do a damn thing, just leave his mind confused and running in circles. He needed a tutor, and maybe even a friend, but Finn didn't seem like the type to have a lot of smart friends.  
But wait. Kurt was smart. Kurt was the best in his class! He was top student in the homework assistance program at McKinley. Sure, he didn't have much of anything in common with Finn, but damn if he didn't know he could help him in some way.  
"Why don't you get some sleep?" Kurt suggested, "Get some sleep and when you wake up, bring your books and notes downstairs."  
"What's the point?" Finn scoffed.  
"The point is, I'm the top in my class, and I'm not gonna let you give up." Kurt took the empty plate from Finn's hands.  
"Rest up." He smiled and turned to leave with Blaine at his heels.  
"Wait," Finn stopped him, "Didn't you say you were homeschooled?"  
"Rest up, Finn." Kurt waved off and exited the apartment.

* * *

"Homeschooled?" Blaine cocked an eyebrow once they were down stairs and far away from Finn's ears.  
"Or something," Kurt shook his head tying his apron on, "I'm not very good at lying. I should really keep track."  
Blaine didn't move, only kept his eyes on Kurt from his leaning position against the counter.  
"What have you lied to me about?" He asked quietly with no spite, just raw curiosity like a child confronting their parent after they find out the Santa at the mall is a fake.  
"Someone would have to read it back to me." Kurt smiles over his shoulder pulling out some supplies. Blaine didn't smile back, but simply looked away. Kurt's smile melted, feeling kind of like a jerk for teasing Blaine who was the only person Kurt had actually never lied to. The only person who actually trusted.  
"I've never lied to you." Kurt his lip, not turning to look at Blaine.  
"That a lie?"  
"No."  
There was a quiet pause, as Kurt pour ingredients into a bowl.  
"I'm not sure I believe you." Blaine admits.  
"Think about it Blaine, how much have I told you that would actually be worth lying about?" Kurt shook his head. A thought tugged at the drape of his mind. What if Blaine had lied to him in the past? But then again, Blaine had shared just about as much personal information with Kurt as Kurt had with him.  
"You really the top of your class?" Blaine shifted. Kurt nodded.  
"I was."  
He heard Blaine scoff, "Why would the top of the class drop everything and run away?"  
"I told you," Kurt tried to conceal his agitation, "I didn't run away. I ran-"  
"Towards something. I remember." Blaine cut him off.  
"So, forgive me if there wasn't much meaning in being the smartest in a school full of people too ignorant to care," Kurt sighed, "Forgive me if it really wasn't worth what I got in exchange."  
"Sorry." Blaine muttered.  
"No, it's," Kurt shook his head, keeping his attention to stirring, "It's fine."  
"I-"  
"Believe what you want; I've never lied to you, Blaine."  
"Why?" Blaine's voice sounded younger than he was, like part of his childish insecurity was peering through.  
"Because you're just a lost as I am. You're my only constant. Why would I throw lies in the way of that? I've got nothing to lie about." Kurt spoke clearly as if he'd reasoned this in head head over and over in the nights he'd laid awake wondering if he- if they would be okay, "Not to you, anyway."  
"Really?" Blaine couldn't seem to shake the juvenile tone.  
"Really really." It was almost as if they were two kids again- professing their roles as each other's best friend. It's funny how that becomes more terrifying when you grow up. There was nothing but the sound of Kurt's clanging as he busied himself with the baking, defusing the suffocating silence.  
"We're opening in a few minutes," Kurt broke, "You should unlock the door and flip the sign."  
Blaine bit his lip and nodded to himself, not caring that Kurt wasn't looking. He pushed away from the counter and turned to leave.  
"For what it's worth, Kurt," Kurt stopped his clanging, "I've never lied to you either."  
Kurt didn't move. He didn't smile. He didn't breathe. He didn't even feel a change in heartbeat as he usually did when Blaine spoke. He simply waited under the unsettling weight of Blaine no longer youthful tone.  
"It's kind of a first for me too." He admitted. Kurt finally turned and looked at Blaine standing in the doorway.  
"Do if this what it's like?" Kurt asked cautiously, "To have a friend?"  
"No," Blaine shook his head after moment. He smiled slightly, "This is what it's like to have best friend."  
It sunk in.  
"Oh." And Kurt matched Blaine's smile as best he could, "Go unlock the door."

* * *

It wasn't until the early afternoon that Finn trudged down the stairs with reluctant textbooks in hand. Luckily, the rush was over and Kurt had time to take a break.  
"Good nap, Sleeping beauty?" Kurt mocked, to Finn unamused pillow-wrinkled face. Kurt swallowed awkwardly and decided to take a different approach.  
"Sit down and open any of your books to the thing that confuses you the most." He instructed, and wiped the rag against the counter.  
"Dude, that's my entire book bag." Finn plopped the books on the cafe table, "Man, I've got gym shorts in there that confuse me!" He slumped into the seat, and Kurt came around the counter.  
"Okay, rule number one, don't stress. You're not going to retain anything if you get frustrated and quit. It's okay to take break when you need it, but don't get distracted." Kurt tossed the rag on his shoulder and brought a chair next to Finn.  
"Fine, whatever." Finn muttered.  
"Okay, so where are we starting?" Kurt tried to keep it cheery, but Finn was having none of it, and shrugged.  
"What's your test on?" Kurt rephrased, and Finn turned pulling out a large Anatomy textbook.  
"You're in luck," Kurt smiled, "I took AP. What section are you on?"  
"The body." Finn answered. Kurt blinked.  
"What part of the body?" He pried.  
"The inside." He deadpanned once more. Kurt took a deep breath.  
"What kind of the inside? Organs? Muscles? Skeleton?"  
"Bones." He said almost like a fatal prognosis.  
"You need to memorize parts of the skeleton?" Finn nodded.  
"All of them?" Another nod.  
"Okay," Kurt pulled out a diagram from Finn's notes, "Well show me what you know and we'll go from there."  
Kurt pointed to the femur.  
"Leg." Finn said.  
"More specifically." Kurt urged. Finn shook his head.  
"Thigh." He tried again.  
"And even more specifically...?"  
"I-I don't know!" Finn shouted.  
"Okay, okay calm down." Kurt eased, "This is why I'm here. I want to help."  
"What's the point?" Finn shoved the book slightly away from him trying not to make a scene.  
"The point is, Finn, you're a smart kid I can tell. You're going to get this." Kurt comforted.  
"But I'm not. I'm an idiot."  
"You know I used to tutor kids in the library all the time. The coach on the football team even paid me to stay after school and tutor the team so they could pass their classes and stay in for the season." Kurt explained.  
"I play football." Finn tried to connect.  
"I know." Kurt smiled, "I also know that guys like you tend to get into the mentality that they're not smart, when in actuality they're very smart, but it's their own false perception of themselves that keeps them from succeeding."  
"Dude, you're gonna have to speak English." Finn shook his head.  
"I know it sounds lame Finn, but in order for this to work, you're gonna have to believe in yourself." Kurt shook his shoulder reassuringly.  
"You think I can do it?" Finn looked up at him.  
"Definitely. If the jerks that I taught can do it, you're gonna blow it out of the water."  
"So, they listened to you?" Finn asked, almost disbelievingly.  
"Well, between the times they were throwing spitballs at me or or throwing me into the dumpster, something I said must have stuck with them, because they all did okay. Not stellar, but passing." Kurt chuckled making Finn smile.  
"Don't worry, Dude. I'm not gonna do that." Finn reassured.  
"Good." Kurt mocked relief, "Because, you have so much more potential than them, Finn. I just want to help you see that."  
That was the small moment when for once, something in Finn's head clicked. Someone believed in him. It wasn't any of his teacher or coaches or his mom ragging on him for not being good enough, this was someone who believed in him and wanted to help everyone else see just how good- or how great- he could be. And hell, if Kurt was willing to take a chance on him, he was damn willing to take a chance on him... even if his high voice and Jack Sparrow- esque mannerisms were a little weird.  
"So where were we?"  
They studied. They studied hard. When a customer would come in, Kurt would leave Finn with a small exercise that Finn would proudly displayed finished with only a few minor mistakes that Kurt would correct. Kurt, much to Finn's surprise, made the material fun and totally comprehensible. He taught him how to make up little stories that connecting things together and almost made it entertaining. He show Finn how to use "word assocializing" or "assolations" or something that opened a whole new world for him.  
Kurt promised to help Finn everyday after school, and Finn actually smiled saying, "That'd be really cool of you, dude."  
When Kurt knew he meant, "Thanks."  
But thanks enough would be when Finn ran through the door the next day after school to show Kurt the 97% he'd gotten on the test.  
Carole came home hours later and practically screamed. When Finn ran off, she'd hugged Kurt and thanked him profusely. Kurt hugged back insisting it was nothing and that he was happy to do it. Because he was. He really was.  
And it didn't hurt that while being crushed in Carole's embrace, his eyes met Blaine's. And identical smiles spread across their faces.

* * *

_More Klaine-ish fluff? is that fluff? kinda- almost. YAY Finn's education! But as we know, with knowledge comes trouble. In other news, I just saw Struck By Lightning. OSBNJLSNKBF WORDS. That movie. THAT MOVIE. Watch it if you can. Chris Colfer accurately portrays my life. Anyway, I just want to say thanks to all of you who reviewed. It definitely motivates me to continue, so please tell me what you think! _

_~holleigh_


	10. New Friends and Ultimatums

Half days were nice. Carole often thought that Kurt and Blaine worked far too much and though they denied it (after all they had nowhere else to go) she liked to give them 'half days' where they didn't need to come in until the afternoon. Blaine liked to take Kurt for walks around the city. When they had some change to spare, they'd treat themselves to a small lunch to share. On one fine half-day, they headed back to the bakery to begin their shifts, but were struck quiet when they heard some discussion in the back room.  
"Are you going to tell him?" It was a male voice, one that neither boy recognized.  
"Are you kidding me? There's no way." That sweet-bitch toned voice was Quinn.  
"Why not? I can support you and the baby." The male voice argued. Kurt looked to Blaine whose expression matched his own.  
"Your idea of support is stealing. Keeping what you need and selling what you don't." She argued.  
"Yeah, well what's Hudson doing for you? He can't even run the football team, how do you expect him to be a father?"  
"His mom gave me this job, and I have somewhere to go if I need to." Her snide voice was just oozing with self-importance.  
"Hey, what about the casa de Puckerman? It''s not even Hudson's kid! It's mine!"  
"It's neither of yours, it's mine," She corrected, "But I'll be sure to let you know if it's born with a mohawk." Blaine smacked his hand over his mouth with wide eyes. Kurt opened his mouth the inquire when Blaine smacked a hand over his mouth as well.  
"Well, make sure you explain that to Hudson. Be sure to tell him how he can have a kid without having had sex, forget that part about being born with the mofo-hawk."  
"I already told him how it happened."  
"Oh, right sorry. I forgot about how jizzing in a jacuzzi can result in knocking your girlfriend up. They should really but that on the warning label; right next to the one about not staying in it for more than half an hour."  
"You see? That. That right there is why you can't be a father! I want Finn to be the baby's father."  
"Well then you should have thought of that before you let me take your virginity. At least the kids gonna be coming from smarter gene pool, not to mention the looks."  
Before either boy realized the voices were getting closer, Quinn and a familiar guy with a mohawk walked through the back door into the main bakery.  
They both froze staring at the pair with their hands slapped over their mouths in a tangled mess of arms, with shock painted on their faces.  
"What are you two doing?" Quinn asked hesitantly, vaguely aware that Blaine's eyes were about to pop out of his head.  
"Ghrfljnlingng" He felt Kurt trying to answer through his hand, forgetting it was there. He let go of Kurt's mouth, knowing quite well that mohawked guy was crossed with the same recognition.  
"Aren't you that street performer kid that plays in the park?" He spoke up sneered. Kurt released his hold on Blaine and turned to watch confliction splash through his eyes. He opened his mouth to answer, but the guy cut him off, "Yeah. You two." He gestured to Kurt, "You're the ones that always hit up Central Park."  
Blaine swallowed hard, glancing to Kurt whose brow was furrowed as if try to figure out where he'd seen this guy.  
"What are you doing here, Puck?" Blaine asked. Kurt's eyes widened. Yes! Now he remembered! The jacket, the criminalistic aura, the ungodly hair cut.  
"You!" Kurt blurted out, pointed at Puck, "You're the one who stole Carole's purse that day at the park!"  
Puck's expression contorted as if he'd just found the source of an overwhelming odor.  
"Wait, you're the kid that tackled me." He connected.  
"What is going on!?" Quinn demanded, commanding the attention of all three boys.  
"He's a thief!" Kurt informed completely outraged that a criminal was in his home- well... the bakery.  
"No shit. Now if only your I.Q. was as high as your voice..." Puck mocked. They comment actually hurt him slightly. He always felt smaller whenever anyone picked at his insecurities- namely his voice.  
"Hey!" Blaine, though ever the Godsend, defended him.  
"Shut up!" Quinn barked, "Puck, explain."  
"What?" He scoffed, "They're just a bunch of homeless brats."  
Fire burned furiously behind Blaine's eye.  
"And you're just a no good rotten thief." He bit back.  
"Really? That's weird cause you must have seen me steal shit a dozen times in that park, and you never seemed to care then." He cocked his head.  
"Wait, you guys are homeless?" Quinn interrupted sounding disgusted.  
"No." Kurt denied shaking his head feverishly.  
"Definitely not," Puck snorted, "I know tons of people who sleep in the subways at night."  
"You sleep in the subway?" The disgust intensified.  
"You cheated on Finn with a thief who stole from Carole?" Blaine shot back, "Don't act like we're the low-lifes here."  
"Blaine-" Kurt felt the sting even though it wasn't directed at him.  
"Hey!" Puck growled, "Finn's my best friend! We're bros!"  
"Wait, you're friends with Finn? And you stole from his mom and impregnated his girlfriend? How is that friendship?!" Kurt shook his head incredulously.  
"First of all, I didn't even know that was Mrs. H." Puck spat, "Second of all, if Finn had just accepted that he's an idiot instead of studying for shit he's never going to get, he may have been able to take care of his girlfriend."  
"Finn's. Not. Stupid." Kurt corrected in a low and dangerous tone.  
"Woah," Puck lifted his hands up in defence, "Sorry for insulting your boyfriend."  
"He's not my boyfriend!" Kurt yelled as Blaine spoke at the same time, "Kurt's not gay!"  
Earning a torn look from Kurt, though it went completely unnoticed unnoticed.  
"And let me guess, you're not going to tell Finn?" Blaine continued, looking disapprovingly at them.  
"No," Quinn said confidently, "And neither are you."  
"What makes you think that we-"  
"Imagine how Carole would feel about having employed two homeless street rats who may or may not have committed heinous crimes and are on the run." She sighed with a smirk.  
"We've never committed any heinous crimes!" Blaine objected.  
"Course not, you guys are whimpy to do anything bad ass." Puck added.  
"Oh but she doesn't know that," Quinn's voice was almost sing-songy as she traced her finger absent mindedly over the counter top, "And imagine what she'd do if she was tipped off about to fugitives working for her? What do you think, Puck." She asked.  
"My guess is she'd call the police," He shrugged passive aggressively, "That's what I do."  
"And how old are you, Kurt?" She cocked her head to the side, "Thirteen?"  
"Sixteen." He grumbled.  
"Hm." She clicked her tongue examining her cuticles, "Still a minor."  
Kurt could almost feel Blaine's jaw clenching.  
"And it seems to me that all minors are required to attend school and live with a parent or guardian."  
She glanced up at seeing the boys tense.  
"What's wrong?" She played dumb, "You don't want to go home?"  
Both of the boy shifted to look away from her.  
"Well, that's exactly where you're going if the police find you." She moved in front of the counter like a lioness stalking its prey, "They'll alert your parents and send you right back to where you came from."  
She finished with her threat. Both boys were silent and examining the floor, feeling trapped.  
"Are we at an understanding?" She asked coolly.  
Kurt looked hesitantly at Blaine who just shut his eyes and nodded. His heart ached slightly, thinking of how wrong this was, and realizing that no matter how far he ran, he may not ever have the courage to stand up for himself.  
Defeated, he turned away and nodded too.  
"Good." She crossed her arms.  
Then ripping straight through the tension, Finn's bright and happy grin shone through the door.  
"God it's a beautiful day! " He beamed, which made the darkness that hovered in the thick air of the bakery even more bleak.  
"What's everyone doing here?" He looked around, completely oblivious.  
"Just..." Blaine looked solemnly are Quinn and Puck, "Making new friends."

* * *

_Sorry for the short chapter, guys, but it's drama packed! so yay? I'm sorry I haven't had a lot of time or inspiration lately. :/ senioritis, man. Please review? I need something to look forward to. Please give me suggestions or comments or questions? Alright... that's it... Tina and Artie in the next chapter..._

_~Holleigh _


	11. Mural

"I can't remember the last I was in this bad of a mood." Blaine grumbled, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. It was a lie, he could very clearly remember the last time he'd felt like this. Afterall, it was how he felt when he got into this whole mess to begin with.  
The air outside was damp and cold, with a promise to only get colder as the winter proceeded and they walked the streets.  
"Did you see his face?" Kurt asked absolutely crestfallen, "He has no idea."  
"We could lose our jobs, our lively hood, and what little we have left and you're more worried about Finn _not_ being a teen dad?" Blaine speculated incredulously as he adjusted the strap of his guitar across his chest.  
"He was betrayed." Kurt sympathized.  
"_We_ were betrayed, Kurt." Blaine argued.  
"That's different. We never really tusted them to begin with." Kurt snapped, "Never trust a pretty face."  
Blaine held his tongue at that and reverted to walking quietly at the side of Kurt- the prettiest face in the world.  
"We have to tell him." Kurt decided a moment later.  
"No," Blaine said firmly, "Absolutely no."  
"Blaine, he deserve to know." Kurt stopped and stood in his path.  
"And we deserve to live peacefully without fear of having our names unrightfully slandered, but newsflash, Kurt, no one gets what they deserve." He reasoned angrily. Kurt stood silently in front of him with a concoction of anger and disappointment displaying across his pale features.  
"If people got what they deserved, Carole wouldn't have to work two jobs, Finn would have decent friends, I wouldn't be homeless and you-" He halted mid rant, reevaluating what he was about to say, and replacing it, "And neither would you." He substituted subtly, dropping his gaze, "The world isn't fair, Kurt."  
"I know, but the only reason some things make sense is because some people go out of their way to balance it out." He argued, "If we do something right then maybe... maybe it will come around for us."  
"Maybe," Blaine's heart softened at Kurt's thrust to do good, "but more likely, I'll just end up in a foster home, and you'll be shipped back to whatever hell you came from."  
"Carole's not like that," He denied, "It's Quinn's world against mine."  
He turned swiftly to head back to the bakery.  
"Kurt!" Blaine called after, following his storming wake, "Kurt if you care about me at all, you won't do this!"  
He called after a they'd made it to the entrance of an alley. Kurt halted.  
"Blaine-"  
"I know you want to do the right thing, Kurt. I do too. And-and I'm inspired that you would be will to take that risk for Finn, I am, but Kurt this isn't just your life. It's mine too." He pleaded, "You're will to take the risk for Finn. Could you maybe make the sacrifice of not taking that risk for me?"  
Kurt turned and looked at Blaine brokenheartedly. He met Blaine's eyes and shut his own in defeat. He gave a small nod.  
"Thank you." Blaine ventured a hand out and placed it on his shoulder.  
"Things are going to get better soon." He reassured, "I promise."  
As he looked back up, with a sad smile, he saw Blaine's expression had changed. It was full of fear- strike that- terror. Kurt cocked his head inquisitively only to feel something cold and metal against his head.  
"Get in the alley, or I'll your friends head off." A dark and sickening voice came from behind Kurt.  
Blaine nodded in horror and backed into the dark alley. The stranger grabbed Kurt by arm, and shoved him into the alley after Blaine with the barrel still against his head.  
"Give me your wallet." He demanded.  
"I don't have a wallet." Blaine kept his hands up a by his head in surrender.  
"Really." He pressed the gun harder to the side of Kurt's head, causing him the whimper involuntarily. He was shaking now, completely paralyzed with trepidation.  
"Blaine-" He begged, try not to cry.  
"I don't! Please! Just let him go!" Blaine pleaded, unable to keep the tears from his own eyes, "Just please," he sounded absolutely broken, "Don't hurt him."  
"You gonna cry, you little faggot?" He mocked, moving his hold to Kurt's neck, like he was ready to snap it. Blaine nearly sobbed, helplessly. Why was no one around? Why was no one helping them? At any moment, Kurt's head could be a gruesome mural splattered across the alley's wall, and there was nothing Blaine could do. He swallowed hard, and something caught his eye. Behind Kurt stood the- the monster. And behind the monster, across the street was a girl- dressed all in back with a spray can. She was graffiting a building. A few feet away from her was a boy in a wheelchair with a camera, taping it.  
A camera.  
Maybe if he could just get their attention, the kid in the wheelchair would look over, and the monster would be caught on tape.  
"Hey, I'm talkin to you, fag." The man growled, bringing Blaine's attention back to the situation.  
"I-" Blaine almost responded.  
"Give me that." He motioned to the thing strapped to his back. His guitar. The light of his life-the only constant in the world. The thing that had gotten him to where he was and would most likely get him where he was going. His music. His song. Everything that made his life okay. Everything that had made him thing he'd fallen in love with. The-  
"Blaine?" Kurt whispered.  
The thing...  
Not the person...

He slowly pulled the strap over his head and held it by it's neck for the last time. He reached out to hand it to the man. Now what his chance, he recognized. When the man held out his hand to receive it, Blaine missed and dropped it to the ground causing a rather loud strumming-clang. Blaine looked up and saw the boy and girl across the street look over.  
Good.  
"Sorry," Blaine said as he slowly backed down to retrieve the instrument.  
"Hey!" A girl- wait the girl's voice called out jogging across the street.  
The man looked over his shoulder.  
"Shit," He swore and turned back to Blaine. He shot his foot up against Blaine's chest, kicking him away from the guitar.  
He picked it up, throwing Kurt to the ground, kicking him in the ribs- once- twice, and turning to run.  
"Get back here!" The girl called after, "Hey!"  
She reached the place in the alley where the two boys were both curled in pain.  
"Oh my God," She knelt next to Blaine, "Oh my God, are you okay?"  
"Kurt." Blaine coughed, holding his chest and looking over trying to see Kurt. To make sure Kurt was still there.  
"Artie, get over here!" She called over to the boy in the wheelchair at the entrance to the alley.  
"What the hell?" He asked, completely shocked by the scene.  
"Kurt?" Blaine repeated, moving to check on his friend. Kurt groaned in pain, but didn't move. The girl moved with Blaine and helped him turn Kurt over.  
"Kurt," He coughed through the pain in his chest, "Kurt come on, answer me."  
"Blaine." His voice was barely a whisper.  
"Artie," The girl, who Blaine could now see was Asian, instructed, "Call 911."  
"No!" Both boys interjected, and coughed with a pain after.  
"Okay okay!" She held her hands up in submission.  
"What can I do to help?" She implored, watching Blaine try to help Kurt sit up.  
"Ow." Kurt grumbled in misery, latching onto Blaine's shoulder.  
"I-" Blaine started, looking Kurt over, there was no way they were going to make it to the subway now. They needed somewhere to go though. Somewhere that wasn't a hospital. Somewhere that wouldn't ask for information. What they really needed was a home, but that wasn't happening, "I hate to ask, but do you think you could help me get him to a place just down the street?" He decided. here was no way Kurt was going to be able to walk by himself just yet, but they couldn't stay in the alley. The girl nodded.  
"Yeah. Sure, no problem."  
"Okay." Blaine thanked, and looked back down on Kurt, running a comforting hand across his back.  
"You hear that Kurt? Miss-" Blaine looked to her.  
"Tina." She offered, "My name's Tina."  
"Tina and I are going to to walk you back to the Hudson's alright? We can't stay here."  
Kurt nodded to show he was coherent.  
With Tina's help he lifted Kurt, who was very light as it was, up and kept their arms around him.  
with Artie in trail, they all headed slowly but surely back to the Hudson's Bakery. Kurt was still in pain, but was beginning to persevere through.  
Things were going to get better soon. Blaine had said.  
But how far away did soon have to be?

* * *

_Drama drama drama because drama is easier to write than mundane day-to-day scenes. So Tina to the rescue! But OMG __**SPOILERS FOR SADIE HAWKINS: **__Blaine, you are like one of my lease favorite characters right now. You need to calm your tits and remember your sexuality and um... well Kurt. KURT. THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE. But you know what? Nah it's cool. Crush on Sam, because he is totally like Kurt except not at all, what are you thinking? And Tina? What the Asian F are you doing? I thought you said in grease that you were giving Mike another shot? What is this? Arggggggggggggggggg._

_**Spoiler rant over. **_

_But seriously guys, for those of you who have been keeping up with this, thanks a ton. It really means so much to me. _

_I feel like I just met you you guys_

_And this is crazy. _

_But heres my update._

_Review it maybe? _

_~Holleigh Rae Lujah _


	12. The Chang Change Project

"Over here in the booth." Blaine whispered to Tina, leading her through the dark of the bakery. Together, they set Kurt down gently on the one-sided cafe` booth.  
"Kurt?" Blaine knelt down in front of his battered friend, "How you are you feeling?"  
"I'm fine, really." Kurt's voice quivered slightly, "Just shaken."  
"Bro, that guy kicked you," Artie said rolling up, "Like, hard."  
"Shhh..." Blaine hushed, "We have to stay quiet. And don't turn on the lights, Tina."  
He stopped her, "Hold on, I think there are candles somewhere."  
"In the the back room." Kurt rasped. Tina say down across from Kurt and Artie rolled up next to the table.  
"Thank you." Kurt whispered with his head back and eyes closed.  
"What happened?" Tina leaned forward.  
"New York." He answered incoherently.  
"What?" Artie asked.  
"I found the candles." Blaine whispered from across the room carrying two lit candles.  
"Are you alright, man?" Artie asked, taking a candle from him and placing it on the table. Blaine put the other one next to it and pulled up a chair between Kurt and Tina.  
"I'm fine. It's gonna bruise, but it'll be fine." He sighed staring at Kurt with a worried gaze. He hesitantly placed a hand on Kurt's, vaguely wondering if he was crossing the 'straight line' or if Kurt would even care. Kurt didn't move from his exhausted position.  
"What happened?" Tina asked watching the small interaction illuminated by the soft flame. With the added light Blaine could make out the features the two kind strangers possessed. Tina was obviously Asian with blue streaks and matching eye shadow. She had a definite goth-vintage-lolita style about her. Artie on the other hand, looked like a young Bill Gates with collared button-up and sweater vest and out out of place riding-gloves. They were certainly an odd pair.  
"We got jumped." He answered miserable, "Some guy held a gun to Kurt's head and tried to mug us."  
"Oh my God. Did he take anything?"  
"We don't have much to take." Blaine shrugged examining the table.  
"Guitar." Kurt whispered, "He took your guitar."  
"I gave him my guitar." Blaine  
"S'my fault." Kurt slung his head to the side to look at Blaine.  
"No," Blaine shook his head, "No, Kurt it was-"  
"I wanted to come back." He grumbled with a heavy guilt.  
"What is he talking about?" Artie interrupted.  
"He..." Blaine looked to Artie cautiously as if debating whether or not he owed these two the truth. Well, it's not like things really could get much worse... "We- Kurt and I- we work here." He gestured to to cafe around them, "And we were walking home-  
"No we weren't." Kurt interrupted, "We don't have a home to walk to."  
"Right well, Kurt wanted to turn around and come back because he- he forgot something."  
"No I didn't." He stepped in again, "I made a selfish and impulsive decision, and it nearly got us killed."  
His blank stare met Blaine's torn face.  
"Wait, hold up." Artie held up his hand, "What are you talking about? Start from the beginning."  
"I..." Blaine looked cautiously to Kurt, who seemed wrapped up in self-loathing and then at Artie and Tina.  
"What were you doing out so late?' He changed the topic, "Isn't it a school night?"  
"Art doesn't have a time or place." Tina crossed her arms defensively.  
"Which is why you were defacing public property in the middle of the night?" Blaine implied skeptically.  
"I wasn't defacing!" Her voice rose.  
"Shh!" Blaine hushed her.  
"I was making it worth looking at. I was sending a message." She corrected.  
"A message?" He implored.  
"Yeah," Artie chimed putting his video camera on the table, "It's part of the documentary I'm making." He turned on the camera, looking at the screen and clicked various buttons.  
"Documentary..." Blaine shook his head bidding more information.  
"The Chang Change Project." Artie announced. He must have come up with that name, because it kinda sucked yet he said it so proudly. Blaine insinuated that 'Chang' was perhaps Tina's last name.  
"Grafitti is for gangs," Tina continued matter-of-factly, "I am an artist. I like to paint buildings to raise people's awareness.  
"Of what?"  
"Beauty. Have you seen New York? It's disgusting and nobody cares. Maybe if I can add some beauty to something ugly like that building or alley that people already pass- that might notice and follow my lead."  
"She's trying to start a movement. She's an inspiration." Artie swooned, showing Blaine the footage on his camera's preview screen. Blaine watch intently as Tina sprayed and displayed. She really was quite good, the images were strange- people and musical instruments, flowers and weapons, animals and trees, water and fire. But what caught his attention were various puzzle pieces scattered across the mural.  
"You can yell all you want and no one will hear. But if you show them, if you make them see than someone's bound to notice. Something's bound to change."  
"Don't you worry about it backfiring?" He asked as Artie pulled the camera away, "What if you get arrested?"  
"Sometimes," She flicked her finger quickly through the flame, "You have to break a few rules to prove you're not invisible."  
The flame danced carelessly at the disruption.  
"You get ignored a lot in school," Kurt whispered, not looking at her, "Don't you?"  
Tina nodded slightly and cocked her head.  
"How did you-?"  
"You seem like the type." He brushed off. The truth was he knew the signs. He knew what being silenced on a daily basis could drive someone to do. I could make you want to grab every individual you met by the shoulders and shake them screaming 'Look at me! Listen to what I can tell you! Help me change things... Help...Me. Please- just... just notice.'  
Not that he ever had as much courage as Tina to actually do something like this though... Then again, Tina did have a following. From what he could tell, Artie was following her like a lovesick puppy, holding her under a light of inspiration. He was Tina's proof that someone-somewhere was willing to listen.  
The only one who'd ever listened to Kurt was...  
"Alright, so now you know our story, what's yours?" Artie interrupted his thoughts.  
"Yeah, what do you mean you don't have much to take?" She chimed.  
Blaine shifted in his seat, eyeing the two.  
"I-" He sputtered uncertainly, "W-we," He gestured to Kurth who was still slightly detached from the conversation, "We don't have homes."  
"You're homeless?" Her eyes widened... well, as best they could.  
"Where do you guys live?" Artie chorused.  
"Anywhere we can." He scratched his head, "But listen, these jobs it's all we have and if Carole- our boss found out we'd be dead. P-Please don't tell anyone."  
The two sat back in what seemed like sympathy.  
"Had." Kurt rasped.  
"What?"  
"Had. All we had." He spoke slightly louder, "Your guitar is gone."  
The realization hit Blaine like a red hot branding iron to the face. His heartbreak was evident by the silence.  
"I'm so sorry," Kurt buried his head in his hands, close to tears, "I'm so sorry, Blaine."  
"It's not your fau-"  
"You're not going to have a job, and business will go down, and Carole'll fire me and we'll be dead. We're gonna die and it's all my fault." He lamented in morose shame.  
"No, no. Kurt it's not your fault. We're gonna be fine." Blaine held his friend's shoulder, though his tone sounded as if he was trying to convince himself- not Kurt.  
"What do you mean business will go down?" Artie pried.  
"I used to perform here. It brought in customers, but now- Kurt's afraid it's going to go back to the way it was when barely anyone knew this place existed." He explained emptily.  
There was a long silence as Blaine went back to looking at Kurt clutch his head in guilt, and Artie and Tina exchanging looks.  
"Two homeless teens trying to make it in New York is a pretty good story. That on top of a noble cause like... say I don't know... saving a small business- like a bakery... A story like that might grab some attention." Artie said absentmindedly fiddling with his camera, "A documentary of that might even go viral... then said bakery would definitely become an attraction."  
Blaine snorted.  
"Are you proposing something?"  
"Let me exploit you," He put bluntly, "For the betterment of both you and Kurt and the bakery. It'll be part of the Chang Change Project."  
"He's right. It's all about getting people to open their eyes," She softly added watching Kurt's undying despair, "To inspire the good in them."  
"Yeah, but the fact that Kurt and I are homeless is kind of a detail in that equation. We can't get arrested. We just- we can't. He have nothing." He denied.  
"We can keep that a surprise," He offered, "A plot-twist. Until you two get on your feet. Right now, it can be just about the bakery."  
He pressed. Blaine looked away, completely sullen.  
"We'd have to ask Carole." He mumbled.  
"Ask her. We'll even come back tomorrow, after school to talk about it." Tina suggested.  
Blaine nodded.  
"Yeah. Okay."  
"We should go," She stood and Artie backed away from the table.  
"Where," She swallowed nervously, "Where are you going to go for tonight?"  
Blaine's eyes landed on Kurt once more.  
"I'll figure something out." He decided, "Once Kurt feels a little better. We'll find a place."  
"Okay." They backed up to the door, "Well, goodnight, Blaine."  
"Thank you guys again."  
"Sure." She nodded.  
"Anytime time, man."  
"Goodnight, Kurt." She tried from the door, though Kurt probably couldn't hear her from his own personal Hell.  
The two left and both broken boys were left in the flicker lights of the ever dwindling candles. There was a small creeking noise.  
"Kurt?" He tried after countless deafening minutes. He touched his shoulder gentle. Kurt flinched away.  
"Come on we need to go."  
"You'd have been just fine if I hadn't come along." He decided, with his head still down.  
"What are you-?"  
"I'm the reason you're in this mess. You were doing just fine before I came along and screwed everything up." He explained.  
"Kurt that's not even-"  
"I'm so sor-"  
"Hello?"  
Both of their heads shot up, like electricity up their spines, and they turned in dread.

* * *

_All the angst! Ugh this is taking soooo freaking long to write... After last week's episode, I just- Tina, please no. I can't. Blaine go home. I urggghhhh. I digress... sigh.. _

_Thank you to the people who review! You can thank them for the 'semi- quick' update. Yaaaaaaay. So let me know what you think! Okay?_

_~HolleighLujah_


	13. Mother To Son

"Carole," Blaine said in a breath he didn't even know he was holding, "Hi."  
"Boys," She turned the lights on from her place on the bottom stair, "What in the world are you two doing here?"  
She pulled her bathrobe tighter around her and crossed her arms as she walked towards them.  
"We... we were walking home." Blaine glanced over to make sure Kurt was still next to him, "And we ran into some trouble."  
"Street trouble?" She asked, more concerned now than upset.  
Kurt closed his eyes and nodded slightly breathing shallowly, as if every movement his lungs made pained him.  
"What happened?" She took the seat that Tina had been in.  
'We got..." He paused searching for the right word, "Mugged. We got mugged."  
"Oh God, are you alright?" She brushed her hair away from her face, trying to see better.  
"I- I don't know," Blaine brushed his hand over his chest. "I'm fine, just bruised, but kicked Kurt in the sides a couple times. I don't think he's breathing right."  
"I'm fine." Kurt insisted miserably sliding his eyes open.  
"He couldn't really walk far," Blaine shook his head, "so we came back here just so he could rest for a few minutes off the street."  
Carole looked back and forth between the jaded boys, contemplating her next move.  
"Here, let me get the phone. You can call your parents to-"  
"No!" Blaine jumped. Carole paused skeptically at his outburst. "Uh... It's just that, we already called our parents. My mom and dad are out of town in business. They told me to just stay with Kurt. And Kurt...um..his- "  
"My dad is driving my aunt to Philadelphia. He probably won't be back until tomorrow." Kurt covered effortlessly, much to Blaine's amazement.  
'We're really sorry for the intrusion, but we just didn't have anywhere to go. We'll be on our way back home in just a few minutes." Blaine's dapper persona kicked in.  
"Absolutely not." She quipped. "In fact, I'm glad you came here. It was the smart thing to do. You boys know that if you ever need anything, you can always come to me." She placed a strong yet gentle hand on Blaine's shoulder.  
"You boys are family now. I want you to know that you always have a place to call home." She looked over at Kurt who sunk even further in his seat. Her warm and gracious smile faltered.  
"Why don't you two stay here tonight? Finn has some old clothes that don't fit him anymore, you're more than welcome to them."  
"Carole, we couldn't-"  
"Don't back talk me, young man," She scolded playfully. "It wasn't a suggestion. You're staying here."  
Blaine gave a relieved and thankful smirk in defeat.  
"Thank you."  
Carole turned her attention back to Kurt who's hand were holding his head.  
"Go ahead up stairs. The guest bedroom in on the left." She motioned with her hand to give a bit of a visual, "I'd like to speak with Kurt."  
Blaine casted a worried glance to his friend, but fearing the maternal wrath of Carole Hudson, he slowly made his way up the stairs and out of sight.  
Carole took the seat beside Kurt in the booth.  
"Kurt." She made her obvious presence known to him.  
"Thank you." He whispered, not looking up.  
"Are you hurt?" She placed a hand on his hunched back.  
"My sides hurt." He confessed. It wasn't fair. Carole reminded him too much of his own mother to even stand a chance at holding his braveface.  
"Besides that?" She pried, "What's really wrong?" She asked knowingly. Kurt's red eyes looked at her helplessly. He dropped his arms.  
"He gave them his guitar." His face shattered.  
"What?" She leaned in like it would help her understand.  
"This guy. He grabbed me and held a gun to my head, and told Blaine to give him his guitar." Tears pricked the back of his tired eyes.  
"And his face," Kurt shook his head, "Carole, that guitar was his world." Carole listened quietly as the tears began to show themselves, "A-and he gave it to him. He just... he gave him the thing that- that means the most to him- handed it over. And now it's gone. And it's my fault."  
One the tears had actually fallen Carole couldn't hold back. She pulled him close, trying not to hurt his sides, and wrapped her arms around him.  
"No, no honey it's not." She rubbed circles on his back.  
"But I was the reason he-"  
"Sweetheart, shit happens sometimes. Choices have to be made and yes, more often than not someone has to sacrifice something they love to hold on to what's most important to them." She explained in a real yet oddly soothing way. "Blaine sacrificed what he needed to to make sure you were safe, because if he lost you, it wouldn't matter if he had his guitar or a hundred guitars because the thing that mattered most to him would be gone. He'd have lost a friend. There's no doubt in my mind that you would have done the same."  
She lifted Kurt's head to meet her eyes.  
"I understand as well as anyone that things happen and we honestly can't see the reason for it then and there but we have to believe that there is one, and that one day we'll know exactly what that is. Bad things happen to good people to test their faith, Kurt." She explained. Kurt shook his head.  
"I don't believe in God-"  
"It doesn't have to be in God, sweetheart. It's faith. Faith in equality, faith in a reason, faith in humanity, or karma. But you do have to faith, honey. If you don't, this city- this world even, this life will just eat you alive and beat you until it blinds you of any light. You are a wonderful person, Kurt. You and Blaine both- and bad things happen to the strongest of people to test their faith and show them just how strong they are."  
Carole wasn't old- late 40's at the most, but there and then, she sounded ancient. Like a warrior who'd seen the darkest of times and the bloodiest of battlefields. One who had fought for every right she held and every right she won for her son. But she wasn't old. He voice still left questions unanswered and a cliff with no certain end. She was just as uncertain as Kurt. The only thing she had, that he didn't was faith that things would come together, and if she ever did fall from that cliff, something- she didn't know what- but something would catch her and she would understand.  
She would understand.  
"Really?" Kurt looked like he was 8 years old again, listening to comforting words of his mother with only a vague understanding of their value.  
She nodded brushing a thumb across his cheek wiping away a straying tear.  
"You're amazing, Carole." He leaned back into her embrace. She rubbed small circles on his back.  
"I know." She smiled.  
"You won't fire him, right?" He whispered, "I'm going to work as hard as I can to get some money to buy him a guitar, but it might take sometime. But you can't fire him because of me. I'll- I'll teach him how to work the counter. He can have half of my salary- just- just don't fire him, please Carole."  
"No, no." She assured, "He's not going anywhere."  
They stay there like that for a few minutes- neither of them speaking or making and move to pull apart. Carole cherishing the fact that this poor boy had finally let his walls down, and Kurt just reminding himself that he didn't have to be the strong one- that there was still a mother, even if it wasn't his own and smelled nothing like her, that would comfort him when the pains of life were too much and carry him when his feet had failed, and would remind him that new directions brought new strifes, but also new homes.

* * *

_Okay, all the Hudmel feels. This was not so supposed to be this long, but I decided it would be best to split the next chapter in half... The next one is sort of a turning point in the story. This story isn't one of my popular ones, but it holds a special place in my heart. ..So... I love Carole. I love her with all my heart. I feel like in the show she has a definite soft spot for him and sometimes she and Burt are envious of each other's sons, which is what makes that family work. They complete each other. Anyway. Um... let me know what you think?_

_Also this chapter was partly inspired by 'Wanting Memories' by Ysaye _

_~holleighlujah_


	14. There and Then

Carole had agreed to Artie's offer- who claimed it was for his film-festival project. Turns out he'd been lab partners with Finn a few times. Apparently he and Tina both went to the same school as Finn- which they should have guessed given the area. Carole even offered to let Tina paint the designs in the bakery. She and Artie were coming around the bakery frequently. Soon they were a staple of the bakery just like Quinn, and Finn, and even sometimes Puck.

There was piece missing still, though most of them tried to ignore it. It was a giant gaping whole that left an unsettling emptiness throughout the bakery. The silence was unnerving, and every time a customer inquired _'What happened to the music? There used to be such beautiful music._' Blaine would flinch and drown himself in the useless work he was doing, the work Kurt had given him to keep him distracted but still wasn't good at. He didn't excel at it like Kurt did. He wasn't supposed to be doing this, and that would frustrate him to now end.

Kurt would worry. Of course would. He would go out of his way to try to make Blaine smile. Most of his efforts were futile though.

But Kurt was different now. Everyone in the bakery could see it- Carole most of all.

It was her doing after all. Her words had stuck in his mind like a fruit by the foot that was left in the sun. He began to see the light of things, and every night he'd lay in bed and think on the things that had once made him miserable and found new meaning. He'd almost thrown himself over that bridge, he'd almost swallowed those pills, he'd almost given up but when that barrel was pressed against his temple, he realized just how something he'd once begged for could scare the living hell out of him, and remind him who he was and why he was here. He did have a purpose though he didn't know what that was just yet. He did have a place to belong though it wasn't solely a location. His eyes were finally open, and he knew that even though he was stuck in the 'here and now', that he could work hard to make it the 'there and then' while looking forward to the 'where and when.'

With a new outlook and new found resoluting sense of journey, he focused on the little things that would carve at details into his memory.

_"Puck," He ventured one day in the shop, "I need a favor."_

It was Blaine though, who's smile had begun to fade and who's reassurance began to dwindle. It was he who was beginning to lose himself.

Kurt had done his best to pull Blaine's attention away from his loss. _'Here_' he'd say _'I'll show you how to...'_ or _'Look,'_ he'd smile, _'look how many talents you have.'_ And Blaine would nod. Blaine would accept that this was this. Blaine would wonder why though, why this was this. Blaine would die asking himself what he had and why was it that that list never lasted. It was Blaine who was afraid of receiving for fear of losing.

_"How tall do you think the Queensboro Bridge is?"_

_"I don't know..." Kurt shrugged, "Maybe about 125, 150 ft? Why?"_

_"No reason."_

Yes, they still had no beds and no roof. Yes, they were still very very tired and worn. But now the world had turned and Kurt was seeing the light between the shadows and Blaine... well Blaine felt cold.

* * *

"Carole," Kurt called one night before closing, "Where's Blaine?"

"I haven't seen him. He said he was taking off for dinner with his family. He hasn't come back yet."

'Dinner with his family' translated to 'a walk in the park' for Kurt. To Blaine, the park people had become like his family.

"That's not like him,' Kurt noted the fact that now the sun was setting outside the window and he was Blaineless, "He's always back before closing. We walk home together."

Carole opened her mouth to say something, but quickly changed it to something else.

"Why don't you head out early, go see if you can find him, and when you do just head home. I'll close up. " She suggested.

"You don't mind?" Kurt confirmed.

She shook her head, "Go find him. Make sure he's alright. I've been worried about him."

"Me too." Kurt confessed taking off his apron and hanging it on the hook. He threw on his father's jacket and headed out the door, and down the street.

Kurt roamed the park and found no sight of his friend. The normal crowd was gone and was no replaced with well-dressed couples in carriage rides and weirdos whom he didn't exactly trust. What if Blaine had had a run in with one of them? What if he was hurt? What if- what if-what if?

He was losing light and now had no clue where Blaine had gone. The optimistic side of him told him that Blaine had just been running late and had gone back to the bakery for him. The realistic side of him told him that Blaine no longer cared about him and decided that he was- in fact better off going it alone. He sat down on a frozen park bench covered in plenty of things he could live a happy life without knowing what they were and began to think. He thought about Blaine and tried to get inside his head, which was proving to be more and more difficult with each passing minute. Blaine liked music... maybe he's gone to a music store to play the sample guitars... Blaine also liked books. Perhaps he'd gone to the library. Blaine liked art and architecture. Perhaps he'd gone the-

The Queensboro Bridge. He'd said something about that... right? The Queensboro Bridge...

It was worth a shot, Kurt decided, and set off with a slight jog and creeping suspicion in the back of his mind.

Those suspicions mocked him with the daunting realization that it was a very real reality when he approached the bridge to see that a little less than halfway down. There in the gushing chill of the bitter wind stood a man.- A boy rather. A confused curly haired broken boy standing on the railing on the other side.

Kurt bolted, and slowed down as he got closer not wanting to scare him.

His heart was pounding and his legs shook unbearably. His mind was blank and the only thing that it seemed to be screaming was the fact that Blaine- Blaine who had saved him was not about to jump off a bridge.

"Blaine." Kurt called softly with terror in his chords. Blaine tossed a look over his shoulder and turned away to look back down and the icey and angry water.

"How did you even find me, Kurt?" He didn't sound like Blaine- not at all the smooth and silkiness of his song was gone and all that remained was the scraping of coal and the dead beat of a hallowed drum.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked dumbly as if he didn't know. As if he hadn't stood there and done the same thing just months ago.

"Go away, Kurt. Just leave I don't want you to- Just walk away." He instructed.

"Blaine, come down from there." He begged, "Blaine, please. It's not worth it."

"It's not worth it? It's not worth it, Kurt?" He yelled, "You want to know what's really not worth it? Me."

"Blaine-" Kurt opposed, but blaine's anger would have none of it.

"You might as well know now! Right? You want to know why, Kurt? You want to know why I'm living on the street?" His voice was torn and wretched with youthful rigidness, "You want to know why I don't have a home or a family? It's because they threw me out! The threw me out, Kurt, because I'm trash. I'm worthless and embarrassing and a disgrace to my family name. I'm a mistake Kurt, and my father was right to throw me out. I went to boarding school. I had friends there, but my dad cut me off. I couldn't pay tuition. I lost my home, my friends, my future and now I have nothing Kurt! I have nothing!" He ranted to any person, wind, or God that would hear him. Kurt shifted on his feet with pain flooding his heart, not knowing how to mend what was savagely ripped apart.

"I'm not saying it's much," He knew this wouldn't work, "but for what it's worth you have me."

"Please," Blaine scoffed through the wetness of his hoarse voice. if you knew what I was, you'd hate me too. You'd cast me aside and be gone just like the rest of them." He presumed bitterly. Why would Kurt be any different. No matter what he gt it was taken away why would Kurt be any different.

"I promise," Kurt pleaded desperately, " I wouldn't-"

"I'm gay, Kurt!" He cried at last, "I'm gay! I like men! I'm a freak! My parents threw me out because I'm a fucking fag! So you tell me that I-"

"Shut up." Kurt growled angrily, trying to squash the slight joy he'd felt that Blaine was in, in fact, gay.

"What?" Blaine's raging fire softened to a flame in record time.

"Never use that word again." Kurt's voice was lower and deeper than he'd ever pretended- sounding almost hauntingly like his father's.

"What?" Blaine laughed darkly, "Fag? Why not? That's what I am, might as well own the title."

"No, you're not." Kurt denied, sounding more disgusted than he'd ever felt.

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine taunted, "call me a fag. It'll make you feel better."

"Not on your life." If Blaine didn't stop, Kurt was praying to whatever faith he had that' he'd be able to hold himself back from pushing Blaine himself out of frustration.

"Why not?"

"Because," Kurt's matched Blaine's furry and spitefulness, "that would be like the pot calling the kettle black."

"What do you me-" Blaine shook his head in vague curiosity.

"I'm from Lima, Ohio," Kurt snapped, "I went to William McKinley High School. I was the only openly gay kid in the school, probably even the whole town. My happiest days were when I was invisible, because when no one noticed me, nobody beat me or slammed me into lockers. Nobody through me into dumpsters or locked me in the janitor's closet during the fire drills. Nobody carved 'fag' into the side of my car, or told me I would burn in hell. Not when I was invisible. But those days were once in a blue moon. There was this one jock who was particularly hell bent on making me miserable. He would go out of his way more than any other to throw me into walls or just beat me up. I just thought it was because he was homophobic idiot. That was until one day, I got so... angry that I snapped back. I followed him into the locker room and called him out. And you want to know what did?"

Kurt bit his lip angrily, "He kissed me. The guy who wanted me dead because I was gay- the one who called me a fag and punished me senseless for it- just grabbed me and shoved his tongue down my throat," He let out a cynical choked laugh, "I fought back, and tried to push him off me but he just even more... angry a-and terrifying. And... and then he touched me and he didn't stop." The tears were falling now- hot and furious, "He violated me in every way possible- i-in a locker room. He didn't stop, no matter how much I cried and-and begged him not to. I guarantee you at least one person- somebody must have walked by that door and heard me screaming. Somebody had to have. And they didn't even care." He paused, this was all too much, he'd never told anyone this- the only time he even reminded himself of it was when he'd wake from the nightmares, but now- saying it out loud- it finally felt like it was leaving.

Like he'd never have to say it again, and he'd be free. Once it would was said, it would be nothing but a memory and soon that would fail too, "After it happened, I was too afraid to say anything. So I didn't. And he didn't stop. He'd touch me anytime no one was around." Blaine's own tears were falling now, unable to tear his eyes away, like Kurt recanting the stories of his own personal hell was a car crash he couldn't take his eyes off. "They voted me Prom Queen, as a joke. And everybody laughed. But it wasn't funny. Not to me, and when I went to leave, they followed me, s-so I ran. I ran and they caught me and- and they beat me. They beat me until I could feel. Blaine, they beat me and cut my skin until I couldn't care. And then they just... left. They left me bleeding and broken. I don't even know how I ended up at the bridge by our school, but I was there, and I stood over the railing- like you're standing now, and nobody cared." He sobbed, almost like he was reliving it and watching Blaine stand there was like watching himself. He just wanted to scream at him,"I was so ready to let go, but the second before I jumped, I remembered my father,"

He raked his hand through his hair, "and I knew that even though I was already dead inside, I owed it to him to take a chance on my fate. I made it home and I sat in front of an overdose and this coat." He grabbed the lapel and shook it, "One was a promise to end my shitty excuse for a life. The other was a promise to leave it behind. And I flipped a coin." He laughed satirically, "I flipped a coin to decide whether I lived or died. Can you imagine if that coin had landed differently? I w-would have never have made it to New York. I would have never gotten to-to laugh again. I would have never met you." Kurt's hateful forefront dropped with his heavy-heart, " I was on that bridge for half an hour, waiting for someone- anyone to stop me. To give me their hand and tell me that life was still worth living," Blaine's eyes were pouring into his, like they were seeing his shattered and sullen soul for the first time, "and nobody did. So here I am. Standing on another bridge, but this time I'm standing on the other side, giving you my hand." He held his hand out shakily, "This time I have the power to change this for you. Blaine, if you take my hand, I can't promise you that things will be easy. But I can promise that you won't be alone."

Blaine looked over to Kurt's pale and tremulous hand. Coming to his senses, he grabbed Kurt's hand and held it for dear life. Kurt squeezed back even tighter and pulled him over. Once his feet were back on the ground, reality slammed Blaine hard- knocking him to the ground and bringing Kurt with him. He lost it, and began to sob uncontrollably into his shoulder. Kurt held him. He held Blaine just as he would have wanted to be held that night after prom. He held Blaine and rubbed circles on his back like Carole had done for him.

"I'm sorry." He sobbed.

"I know." Kurt sighed.

"I'm so sorry." This time it sounded more like sympathy for the tears on Kurt's own face.

"I know." Kurt acknowledged once more.

"_It's cold._" Blaine cried.

Kurt slid his father coat off his shoulders and wrapped it around both of them like a blanket.

_"I know."_

* * *

_Depressing chapter is depressing. Well, good news is thing's pick up from here. So, I mentioned this is totally not canon, right? Anyway... super dramatic, I guess. But things can only look up from here. Wow, I didn't really intend for this to be so depressing. I promise I'll try to had some feel-good hudmel and comedy and Klaine, okay! I hope you're not loosing interest in this story... there is a plot! I'll tell what the rest of plot is if you're like though... just ask. But pelase-please review okay? I'm kind of insecure about this fic because, it's pretty near and dear to me... Again, if anyone wants to beta this... that's be awesome. I have a serious problem with proof reading my own work..._

___**Okay, so the reason I'm updating so soon is because I just got a letter in the mail from the Scholastic Writing Awards. I won an honorable mention, 2 silver awards, and 1 gold (which only 5% receive) with nomination for an American Voices award (only 5 students from the combined region of Bucks, Chester, Delaware, Montgomery, and Philadelphia counties.) I'm just really excited... **_

___**Please review?**_

_~HolleighLujah_


	15. A Comforting Terror

"Morning you two." Carole smiled, wiping the counter as the two boys - two gay boys (Blaine smiled)- walked through the door and were welcomed by the familiar warmth scented with brown sugar and vanilla.  
"Kurt!" Finn smiled trudging down the stairs, "I didn't tell you! I got a B on my match test!" e grinned proudly, stuffing his bag with books.  
"That's great, Finn." Kurt encouraged, "I'm really proud of you."  
Finn shrugged, "Hey, you're the genius. Not me." He slung his bag over his shoulder. "But thanks, man." He commended, ruffling Kurt's hair as he passed him to push out the front glass door.  
"You know you really are doing a good thing for him." Blaine noted, slipping off his coat, "He seems so much happier now."  
Kurt blushed and hung his own jacket up on the rack.  
"You thinks so?" Blaine nodded. The corners or Kurt's mouth twitched upward.  
"Well, good. Because I'm much happier now too." He admitted out loud to himself and pulled on an apron. He knew Blaine was most likely thinking about what had happened yesterday- everything Kurt had told him. It was if he was seeing everything Kurt did differently now. He wasn't just guessing, he was understanding.  
Blaine dropped his gaze so Kurt didn't think he was staring.  
Strange, though... How a piece of knowledge, a secret, can change they way you see a person. And how the mutual trust and exchange of those secrets can tie two people together like invisible cable wire. Blaine felt closer to Kurt than he ever had before, and he had a growing suspicion that Kurt felt the same.  
Blaine felt different. Blaine felt happy. After so long, it felt foreign and almost frightening. And he knew Kurt was responsible for making him feel again.  
Know, you're wondering, but no. No though it was out in the open now, neither of them chose to recognize the fact that the other was, indeed, gay.  
Trying to undo the knot in his own apron, Blaine followed him around the counter so they could begin their work.  
"Good morning, Carole." Kurt's soft salutations tore Blaine from his struggle.  
"Morning, boys." She greeted from the bottom step of the stair, pausing, "You look... different. What sort of trouble are you two getting into?"  
The two looked at each other to examine the 'differences'.  
"I'm teasing." She clarified, "It's good to see you both smiling again." She tossed her coat over her arm with her purse. "Finn already took off, I suppose." The boys nodded, trying to hid the blushes that scattered their cheeks.  
"Figures." She muttered, "Kurt, Christmas is in a week away, why don't you mark the holiday things down to half off? But make sure to make twice as many." She instructed and disappeared with a ring of the welcome chimes.  
Blaine looked from Carole's wake to scan the bakery, the half-finished abstract and warm-toned mural, the stool and microphone still in place, and then to Kurt who was busily warming up the ovens and pulling out supplies.  
Maybe it was time to stop thinking of life as 'better' and 'worse' and start seeing them as all being steps in one direction. A different one than he'd have in the past, true, but not better or worse. Just... new.

* * *

"Um... 'Saving Private Ryan'?" Kurt ventured, pulling a tray out of the oven as Blaine busily shoveled them onto the cooling rack, doing his best not to break more than he already had.  
"Nope." Blaine smiled shaking his head.  
"You're kidding me." Kurt placed the hot tray next to the rack, "You've never seen 'Saving Private Ryan?'"  
"I told you, I don't watch a lot of movies." He defended.  
"But it's 'Saving Private Ryan'! It's an American staple!" Kurt exclaimed disbelievingly.  
"No, A Very Brady Movie is an American staple. Garfield- very much a staple." Kurt waked him playfully on the head with his oven mitt.  
"You are not putting a cat eating lasagna on the same level as Tom Hanks dying for the life of a kid he didn't even know and our freedom in a breathtaking film depiction of World War II."  
"Okay fine, give me something I've seen that you would consider a classic." Challenged Blaine.  
"Okay... Alright let's see... Oh! Forest Gump?"  
"Never seen it."  
"I.. What?! How can you-?"  
"Next."  
"The Godfather."  
"Isn't that Italian?"  
"The Princess Bride."  
"Nope."  
"The Truman Show."  
"It that the one about the president? "  
"When Harry Met Sally."  
"Wait.." Blaine paused, "Is that the one with the scene at Katz's?"  
"Yes."  
"Alright." He nodded, "Alright, yeah. I'll give you that. But I'll raise you Star Wars."  
"Star Wars is not a-" The phone rang in the middle of Kurt's retaliation, "Hold on. Hello, Humm- uh Hudson Bakery. This is Kurt, how can I sweeten your day?"  
"Sweeten your day?" Blaine mocked quietly earning a look of amusement from Kurt.  
"Oh, hi. How are you? Oh... Really? What can I-... Uh-huh." Kurt nodded as if the person on the other end could see him, "Yes. Okay."  
Blaine began to mimic Kurt's phone persona- stans and expressions. Kurt slapped him on the arm.  
"Next to the guest room? Yeah. Yeah, sure. You got it. I hope everything works out. Okay. We'll get on that. Thanks. Bye, Carole." He hung up.  
"That was Carole." He looked to Blaine.  
"I wouldn't have guessed." Blaine deadpanned.  
"She's at the police station." Kurt rolled his eyes. Blaine brows knitted together, patiently awaiting more information.  
"She didn't say what it was about, but she might be a little late getting back." Kurt scribbled something down on some scrap paper, "So she wants us to decorate."  
"That's what we've been doing." Blaine shrugged.  
"Not the food, the bakery. She wants us to go up to the storage room next to the guest bedroom and bring down the Christmas decorations." He came around the counter with Blaine at his heels, "Come on, Harry."  
"Well, lead the way, Sally." Blaine smirked and following Kurt up the stairs.

* * *

The storage room was oddly reminiscent of an episode of 'Hoarders: Buried Alive.'  
There were boxes upon deteriorating boxes of things that must have been close to twenty years old. It smelled like 80's. Blaine's nose scrunched.  
"Why do I feel like we're going to find a dead cat in here?" He asked aloud.  
"Ugh. This is just... just..." Kurt pulled down a box of what appeared to be very dusty 'Gone with the Wind' memorabilia.  
"For some reason, I thought Carole was the organized type." Blaine mused opening a box of linens with various farm animals on them.  
"With a son like Finn? Never." Kurt chuckled, picking a cobweb off a broken lighthouse figurine that rested on a stack of boxes. He dusted the cobbed off his fingers and looked over to his friend with a conniving smirk.  
"Oh my God!" Kurt feigned panic, "Blaine there's a spider on your-!" Blaine swore and flailed, smacking himself the head to whip the invisible spider away.  
"You got it." Kurt gave a thumbs up, giggling uncontrollably, "You're good."  
Then it finally clicked and Blaine bit his lip nodding his head as Kurt laughed. He lunged towards in attempt to frighten him, but miscalculated sending Kurt falling backwards against a piece of what was presumed to be more boxes covered in a cloth.  
There was a musical crash- Odd as that sounds. Blaine watch in horror at possibly having injured his friend, but also in curiosity at the noise the crash had made. It almost sounded like-  
"No, no that's fine, Blaine just step over my bruised and bleeding body with no remorse for what you've done. It's cool." Kurt moaned from the floor.  
And Blaine didn't. He was much too interested with pulling back the cover of what Kurt had fallen on.  
"Hey." Kurt whined, as Blaine paid him no heed. Blaine found the corner of the cloth and pulled it away from the mass.  
"What are you-" Kurt picked himself up and back onto his feet. He stopped mid sentence when he saw what Blaine was looking at.  
It was an upright black Yamaha piano- dusty, but no worse for wear.  
"What in the world..." Blaine muttered lifting the lid. He pressed a finger to a key and listened for the corresponding note.  
"It's in tune." Kurt noted in awe as he approached, "Do you play?"  
Blaine shook his head in disappointment. Kurt examined his face for a moments. He saw the look of almost unrequited love as Blaine stared at the black and white keys. It was like he loved music so much, but this instrument right here couldn't love him back. It couldn't love him like his guitar had. Kurt had heard of a lot of people that claimed music was their 'passion' or their 'life' or they'd die without music'. Blaine never said a thing like that, but he was the only person Kurt believe would honestly die without music. To her Blaine talk about music was to hear Shakespeare talk about love. There was a special connection there which Kurt had never seen; like all the love Blaine was never able to offer his father had been directed towards music. Music was Blaine's family. And seeing this instrument here was like seeing a family member he couldn't communicate with.  
Determined, Kurt pulled out the bench from it's tucked away haven and brushed it off before sitting down. How long had it been since he'd been home at his own? How long had it been since he splayed his hand acrossed the keys to make them sing? With a hesitant press of a chord, he realized it didn't matter. He began to play. As soon as he did he felt like Blaine. Like there was just a vortex of understanding consuming him. He felt like he was making something that made him. The melody was soft and rich almost like a lullabye; something he'd written on a day where he'd missed his mother even more than usual. There was emotion in it- almost like a storm of the soul. Dark clouds reigning over a heart and reaping devastating hopeless turmoil.  
It crescendoed, almost overwhelming Blaine as he closed his eyes, and allowed himself to surrender to the color and tones. The deep soulful tones began to shift to less bleak ones, like the flooding was ending. It drifted off into tiny pings- droplets of sadness with rays of light. Blaine could see it all. Blaine could feel it all. It was intoxicating and Kurt had played it with such passion and skill. He felt like he was falling in love. As his eyes fluttered open, the light through the window had caught the dancing specks of dust from the piled boxes and the animals linens that smelled of firewood. Suddenly the room didn't seem so full of clutter, but memories. And it seemed brighter, as if the light had heard the music and had come to listen and lay across Kurt's pale face and chestnut hair. And suddenly Blaine felt warm. His eyes widened in realization as Kurt looked up at him with his eyes. Such eyes full of nameless feelings and strings of heart.  
Suddenly, Blaine no longer felt as though he were falling in love.  
No, Blaine knew. He feared now that he was.  
But never did he expect such fear to be so very warm.

* * *

"You never told me you played." Blaine said nonchalantly hanging some holly along the chair rail.  
"What does it matter? We're homeless. It's not like it's a useful skill." Kurt was busy switching the door chimes with jingle bells, "It's not really a portable skill."  
Blaine pursed his lip and nodded, trying not to argue. Something had triggered inside Blaine's mind and now all he could think about was Kurt and all the things that made him weak in the knees. Somehow watching him play had opened that dust-covered door.  
The jingle bells chimed, nearly throwing Kurt from the latter he was on.  
"Oh wow." Tina gasped rolling Artie through the door, "This place looks sick!"  
Blaine puts hands on his hips and looked around proudly. The faux-tree with lights, the holly and ivy, the reefs and mistletoe, the decor stockings. The place looked good.  
"Don't look at me, Blaine put most of it up." Kurt climbed down.  
"But Kurt designed the lay out," Blaine pulled a napkin out of his pocket with pen mark drawings, "He drew a diagram."  
"Laugh all you want, Anderson. We make a great team." Kurt nudged him playfully, unaware of the blush crossing his best friend's face. The door jingled again. This time is was a less friendly face.  
"Hummel," Puck called. Kurt turned nervously and Puck nudged his head as a sign for Kurt to follwo him outside. Kurt nodded and complied, with Blaine in his wake.  
"Why don't," Kurt abruptly stopped and turned to him, "You stay here? This shouldn't take long."  
There was a pause. Kurt shifted his feet trying to gnore the starign of the other three people. Blaine tossed a worried glance to Puck and looked back to Kurt distrustingly. The last thing he wanted was for Kurt to get hurt or for Puck to have helped a some mugger buddy of his get revenge on Kurt. At last, he nodded and watched as Kurt turned on his heel and follow Puck outside.  
He waited anxiously by the window, though saw nothing of either boy- not until the door chimed again and Kurt walked back in with Finn.  
"-and Mr. Schuester was all like 'For Lease Nah David'. And I was like 'Dude, my name's Finn.' And then he-" Finn recanted and he entered. Puck was nowhere to be seen and Quinn wasn't with Finn... Thank God.  
"Dude! This place looks awesome!" He smiled brightly, "Usually Mom makes me put up this stuff, but you guys are better at this than I am."  
"Which reminds me," Finn pulled out a book from his bag, "Kurt, I need help with Billiard Rights."  
"Bill of Rights, Finn."  
"Oh. Yeah, that. You got a minute?" He laid his things out on the table.  
"That depends. Can Billy Crystal here work the counter without too much whining?" Kurt teased.  
"I do not whine. I bitch and moan over things I don't like to do." Blaine rolled his eyes, throwing on his apron. He say behind the register, reorganizing the display and waiting for those little moment when Kurt would look up at him and smile.

* * *

_Sorry the update took so long and it's just a lot of filler and argh I hate life right now. Writers block kills. Good news, though. Next chapter has a lot of drama and progression and feels and CHRISTMAS! yay Christmas. okay. So not much to say. Please review?_

_~HolleighLujah_


	16. Christmas: Part 1

"You never told me you played." Blaine said nonchalantly hanging some holly along the chair rail.

"What does it matter? We're homeless. It's not like it's a useful skill." Kurt was busy switching the door chimes with jingle bells, "It's not really a portable skill."

Blaine pursed his lip and nodded, trying not to argue. Something had triggered inside Blaine's mind and now all he could think about was Kurt and all the things that made him weak in the knees. Somehow watching him play had opened that dust-covered door.

The jingle bells chimed, nearly throwing Kurt from the latter he was on.

"Oh wow." Tina gasped rolling Artie through the door, "This place looks sick!"

Blaine puts hands on his hips and looked around proudly. The faux-tree with lights, the holly and ivy, the reefs and mistletoe, the decor stockings. The place looked good.

"Don't look at me, Blaine put most of it up." Kurt climbed down.

"But Kurt designed the lay out," Blaine pulled a napkin out of his pocket with pen mark drawings, "He drew a diagram."

"Laugh all you want, Anderson. We make a great team." Kurt nudged him playfully, unaware of the blush crossing his best friend's face. The door jingled again. This time is was a less friendly face.

"Hummel," Puck called. Kurt turned nervously and Puck nudged his head as a sign for Kurt to follwo him outside. Kurt nodded and complied, with Blaine in his wake.

"Why don't," Kurt abruptly stopped and turned to him, "You stay here? This shouldn't take long."

There was a pause. Kurt shifted his feet trying to gnore the starign of the other three people. Blaine tossed a worried glance to Puck and looked back to Kurt distrustingly. The last thing he wanted was for Kurt to get hurt or for Puck to have helped a some mugger buddy of his get revenge on Kurt. At last, he nodded and watched as Kurt turned on his heel and follow Puck outside.

He waited anxiously by the window, though saw nothing of either boy- not until the door chimed again and Kurt walked back in with Finn.

"-and Mr. Schuester was all like 'For Lease Nah David'. And I was like 'Dude, my name's Finn.' And then he-" Finn recanted and he entered. Puck was nowhere to be seen and Quinn wasn't with Finn... Thank God.

"Dude! This place looks awesome!" He smiled brightly, "Usually Mom makes me put up this stuff, but you guys are better at this than I am."

"Which reminds me," Finn pulled out a book from his bag, "Kurt, I need help with Billiard Rights."

"Bill of Rights, Finn."

"Oh. Yeah, that. You got a minute?" He laid his things out on the table.

"That depends. Can Billy Crystal here work the counter without too much whining?" Kurt teased.

"I do not whine. I bitch and moan over things I don't like to do." Blaine rolled his eyes, throwing on his apron. He say behind the register, reorganizing the display and waiting for those little moment when Kurt would look up at him and smile.

* * *

Christmas Eve was busy to say the least. The richer families with children, who were to posh to make their cookies for Santa, would buy them by the dozen. And it seemed everyone needed a dish to pass at their Christmas Eve parties, and Kurt and Carole's holiday recipies seemed to be the hit of the season. No different was the Hudsons' Christmas Eve party. Carole had insisted that Kurt and Blaine come. She's invited Tina and Artie as a thank you for their help in the bakery. Fin had invited Puck and Quinn, and oddly enough that loud crazy lady- what was her name? Rachel! How she got the venue, no one was sure.

"Would you boys like some champagne?" Carole offered Kurt and Blaine. They nodded and smiled. Kurt really did like Carole had no problem with the boys having a glass of champagne instead of sparkling cider.

"Look," Kurt leaned into Blaine's ear, "Quinn's already showing."

Blaine glanced around. He spotted the pretty blonde and found that through her red seasonal dress she was, in fact, showing just a bit. Finn stood next to her smiling and trying to hold her hand, as she kept pulling it away.

"She doesn't even care about him." Whispered Kurt.

"Blaine," Carole came back to them with the glasses, "Why don't you have Kurt open is present?" She smiled knowingly. Kurt shot him a look- caught completely off guard. Surely Blaine wouldn't have spent the precious few dollars he had to get him anything for Christmas. After all they'd only met a month or so ago. And Kurt knew that Blaine certainly didn't feel the same way Kurt did for him, and Kurt was only beginning to accept that. He didn't need any more mixed signals, but still, he was curious.

"What did you-?" Blaine went behind him, covering his eyes, and leading him to the back corner of the cafe, where his spot used to be. Everyone saw what was going on and followed to look on.

"Okay? Almost there." Blaine sang in his ear.

"Blaine, I swear if this is payback for the Chia Pet comment I made yesterday-" Kurt warned.

"No, no. I promise it's not. I'll get you later for that, though." He chuckled, "Open your eyes."

He dropped his warm hands from Kurt's face and allowed for his eyes to flutter open. He saw in front of him was a giant mass covered with a sheet.

"Aw, Blaine I love it. You know I've been wanting a tent." Teased Kurt.

"Shut up and go open it." He pushed Kurt towards it.

"Is it a dog?" Kurt played.

"No." Blaine grinned and shook his head.

"Is it an Easy Bake Oven?" He tried again.

"Good God Kurt, would you just open it?" Blaine impatiently whined.

Kurt smirked and pulled the sheet from the lump. His smirk fell and was replaced by confusion. He ran his hand across the top and looked back to Blaine.

"How did you-?"

"I told Carole how jaw-droppingly talented you are, and asked if she'd be willing to-"

"I mean how did you move it down here?" Kurt skidded his hand over the freshly waxed piano.

"A musician never reveals his secrets." Blaine held his hands up with his play on words.

"I helped!" Finn boasted with pride. And Blaine nodded sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. He had barely enough time to catch Kurt when the boy threw himself at him for a grateful hug.

"Thank you!" Kurt almost whispered. Blaine relaxed enough to wrap his arms around Kurt's slender frame.

"There is a condition, though." Carole explained as the boys pulled apart, "You have to play something for us."

Kurt couldn't keep from smiling at the fact that he'd finally be able to do what he loved, but for some reason, he felt like anything he played would be empty.

"Alright." He agreed, 'But I'm going to need a little help. Mr. Anderson, would you mind?"

Blaine cautiously stepped forward and took the spot next to Kurt on the piano bench.

"I'll do my best to harmonize." Kurt whispered and without warned, began plucking out the first few sparkling notes.

"_Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we've no place to go, Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!__" _Blaine smooth verluxuois voice began as Kurt's fingers danced along the keys. Blaine looked closely at Kurt who was focused on his fingers. Was he going to sing? Nobody there had ever heard Kurt sing before. Or did he want Blaine to do the whole song? He said he'd harmonize-

"_It doesn't show signs of stopping, and I've brought some corn for popping, the lights are turned way down low. Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!__" _Holy mother of God. Blaine's jaw might as well have fallen completely off. Kurt's voice was unusual, and Blaine knew how he usually tried to hide it but the sound he just made were absolutely angelic. The clear sound went straight to the heart. Kurt caught Blaine's expression out of the corner of his eye, and smiled embarrassingly through his last note. He nudged Blaine to continue, though he almost didn't. He never wanted Kurt to stop singing, but there was something so enticing about hearing their voices intertwine.

"_When we finally kiss goodnight, How I'll hate going out in the storm! But if you really hold me tight," They sounded incredible, and Blaine just couldn't get enough. Especially when Kurt harmonized on the next bit, "All the way home I'll be warm.__" _

"_The fire is slowly dying, And, my dear, we're still good-bying,__" _Kurt nodded encouragingly for him to take the next bit.

"_But as long as you love me so,__" Blaine sang delightfully to Kurt, who must have had no idea the truthfulness behind those words._

"_Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let it, Let It Snow!__"_Blaine looked up at the smiles of everyone gathered around. Carole had run off behind the counter and was now on the phone. She held the speaker out for the person on the other end to hear. Blaine shrugged and hummed some improvisations with Kurt as he masterfully picked out the complex chords for the piano break. Kurt gave him a nod to come back in.

"_Oh the weather outside is frightful,"_Blaine sang to Kurt who obliged and harmonized on the next line, _"but the fire is so delightful."_

'_And since we've no place to go,"_He tapped the off beat on the piano's wood, waiting for Kurt to harmonize with him again, _"Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!"_

From there, the were completely in sync; switching off parts and improvise little riffs that perfectly complimented each other's part and damn, they were good. Kurt's playing left nothing to be desired. Everyone around them was grinning at the spectacular before them- right up till the last note they sang so enthusiastically. Kurt pounded out the little bit afterwards and the song was over. Both of them were out of breath from exhilaration. Everyone applauded except for Puck.

"Not bad." Kurt complemented.

"Not bad?" His eyes bugged, "Kurt, that was incredible!"

Kurt's cheeks flooded with crimson.

"One more?" Blaine requested, "Everybody, sing along?"

Carole looked over and whispered something into the receiver. She hung up and walked over.

"Carole, you okay?" Blaine asked, spotting the tears in her eyes.

'I'm wonderful," She assured, "And I think some caroling is a great idea. Kurt?"

Kurt began to play once more and everyone joined in.

* * *

After caroling was over, they took a break and grouped off in different corners of the cafe with holiday food.

"Tina!" Artie called from across the room, "Do you have my camera?"

"Yeah," She walked over to where Artie had been chatting it up with the cute Asian boy from football Finn had invited but she'd been too shy to approach, "Why?"

"Mike wants to see the mugging!" He boasted proudly and he shyly handed him the camera, avoiding all eye contact with Mike.

"You filmed that?" Blaine gawked looking to Kurt for a matching expression.

"Yeah," Kurt shrugged, "you didn't know?" He sipped his champagne.

Artie took the camera and eagerly shoved the review screen in his face. Tina turned the music off and out of morbid curiosity, everyone else crowded around as well.

"Turn it up." Finn said.

They all stood there watching on the small screen as the shaky video showed only the last few seconds before the man ran off with the guitar.

"Dude that is just-" Finn's comment was cut off when the video suddenly cut to another scene. It was have blocked by a wall or something but there was enough space to see that it was Puck and Quinn taking quietly in the kitchen.

"_-you want me to do, Q? I don't-"_

"_This is your baby, Puck. I don't care whether it was a mistake, you have to-"_

"Turn it off." Quinn demanded and reached for the camera but Finn took it from Arties hold and held it away from her still watching.

"_Oh so now it's a mistake?" _

"_The only reason I slept with you is because you got me drunk on wine coolers and I was feeling fat that day-" _

"_You were feeling fat that day? I wonder how you're feeling now-" _

_There was the sound of a slap._

"_I can't keep working here, Puck. You're going to have to provide for-" _

"_What the hell are you on? I thought you said you wanted Hudson to-" _

"Finn, turn it off!" Quinn cried.

"_Yeah, well I'm just starting to realize that maybe a guy who believes someone can get pregnant via hot tub isn't the one who should be helping with this kind of thing." _

"_You know what, Fabray? You may have Hudson whipped, but not me. Puckzilla doesn't take orders from not-so-good little cheerios." _

"_Get back, Puck! I am not-!"_

The video cut out and went to another scene of Blaine and Kurt laughing over a misshapen cookie Blaine had made. It was the only sound in the room now as Finn dropped the camera to the ground, making Artie cringe. Finn looked to Quinn who was crying now and Puck stood at her side with a stone expression.

"Quinn... You?" He pointed to her small bump under her dress "No," and looked back up to his best friend, "No. No."

"Finn please-" Quinn begged, trying to hug him. He pulled away.

"You and- and Puck? Puck?" His tone grew angry and broken.

"Dude, it was just one time and it just-" Finn lunged and took his best friend to the ground, punching him profusely. Kurt looked at Carole who looked equally as betrayed. To his surprise, no one was moving to stop the brawl. But Quinn cried harder, and surprisingly, Kurt felt no grief for her. Only for Carole and Finn. After a few seconds, and a few good hits, Kurt enlisted Blaine to help him pull Finn away from Puck, fists still flying.

"No! Let me go!" Finn screamed and thrashed, "He deserves it!"

"I know he- ugh- does, Finn." Kurt concurred, as Finn fought against him and Blaine.

"Why does nobody else care?!" He cried.

"We do, Finn!" Blaine soothed.

"Then why-"

"Because everyone already knew." Rachel cut in with her 'holier than thou' arrogance, "I told you, but wouldn't listen to me. I'm the only one who-"

"You knew?" Carole mumbled in shock. Rachel nodded, ignoring Quinn's murderous glare.

"See? Not my fault he was the only one too stupid to figure it out." Puck grumbled.

"He's not stupid!" Kurt retorted defensively as Fina began to thrash at the comment.

"Artie, when did this happen?" She looked to him.

"I- I gave the camera to Kurt. He said he needed to borrow the footage from the mugging." Everyone's eyes turned to Kurt who stood defensively.

"I needed it to ask Puck something. I didn't record anything." Kurt clarified, "Don't look at me, I didn't-"

"You little fairy!" Puck spat stepping towards Kurt.

"Hey! Don't talk to him like that!" Blaine defended.

"We had a deal!" Puck bellowed.

"What deal?" Carole asked.

"I helped you get that stupid guitar for your stupid boyfriend!"

"He's not my boyfriend!" Kurt corrected.

"Wait, my guitar?" Blaine looked to Kurt.

"Blaine hasn't told him yet!" Artie joined.

Kurt looked over to her, "Hasn't told me what?"

"Should we leave?" Mike leaned to asked Tina and Artie.

"Are you kidding?' Artie asked with his camera capturing eve bit, "This is gold."

"What deal? What is he talking about, Kurt?" Blaine pressed.

"The two of them are homeless!" Quinn announced vengefully above everyone, "They don't have any parents. They live on the streets. And they're gay. probably for each other."

"No we're not!" Kurt defended.

"We're not even together yet!" Chimed Blaine unthinkingly.

"Yet?" Kurt looked at him. In a panic, Blaine switched the subject.

"We're homeless."

"Blaine!" Kurt smacked his forehead.

Quinn stepped in slowly making eye contact with Carole. "You should probably call the police. They're probably criminals, trying to run. You'll probably be their next victim."

Fear ran through their veins as they looked to Carole who looked at them with confused eyes.

"You cheated on me!" Finn yelled at Quinn.

"I-I'm not a criminal!" Kurt exclaimed, "Puck was the one that tried to steal your purse!" Kurt pointed at Puck.

"You're not seriously going to believe him! He's a fag! They're both faggots-"

"Get out." Carole demanded in a deadly tone. Everyone froze. "I said get out." She repeated, "Both of you."

"But I-" Started Quinn but was cut off.

"No. Now, I've accepted a lot of shit from both of you, but now you've betrayed my trust and I will absolutely not allow you under my roof with that kind of hate in your hearts." She growled like a momma bear protecting her cubs- all three of them, "Get out."

"You know what? I'm so done with this!" Puck kicked a chair and walked out the door, with the jingle bells mocking him as he did. Quinn was still crying. She stomped her foot and following his path.

Finn just collapsed completely broken into his mother's arms. Kurt and Blaine had migrated away from the Hudsons during the argument and were now looking at them, feeling like opposing teams- which Kurt had dreaded.

"Carole I-" She looked up him with disappointed eyes as she rubbed her son's back, "I'm so sorry. I-" He stopped once he heard the sound of the jungle bells again, and saw that Blaine was gone.

"Blaine-' Carole called softly, but didn't dare to move from her on her son, as if physically trying to hold him together. Kurt unsurely took a step back from the two and towards the door. He needed to explain. He needed to apologize, but they probably just wanted him gone. And he just needed Blaine to stand there next to him.

Kurt grabbed the present he'd gotten for Blaine from behind the counter and his and Blaine's coats. He left- not even certain if he would ever return.

* * *

_This is so freaking long, I made it part one and part two. So here's Christmas Eve Drama! Next chapter will be Christmas eve continued and Christmas... so... here it is... please review? _

_~HolleighLujah_


	17. Christmas: Part 2

Blaine's feet were smaller than Puck's yet bigger than Quinn's, making him easy to track in the snow. It was no surprise that he found Blaine sitting on the frozen stone fountain, hunched over and shivering... or crying. One of the two. Kurt said nothing as he approached, but sat next to his friend and draped his coat over his chilled shoulders. Blaine only peaked up out of curiosity.  
"Hey." Kurt greeted. Blaine gave him a small smile. "So that could have gone better..."  
Blaine snorted, "Are you kidding? That was better than any party the Andersons ever had. I'd rather people yell than pretend like everything's okay."  
Kurt chuckled a bit, "Yeah, well. The last family reunion I went to, my Uncle Andy took of his shirt and started throwing Jell-o at the ducks because he thought he killed Lincoln."  
"Why-"  
"Uncle Andy wasn't well..." Kurt trailed off, "But you're right. Better it happened now than later when we had more to lose."  
"Yeah," Blaine nodded with a sad smile, "Yeah."  
There was a long pause, as they looked around at the dead and empty park.  
"Thank you," Kurt broke it, " for the piano. I really really loved it."  
"Your voice is incredible." Blaine gushed.  
"Oh!" Kurt jumped slightly, "That reminds me! Close your eyes."  
"I'm not sure I should trust you with excitement like that."  
"Come on, Blaine. Have a little courage."  
"Okay." He lightly closed his eyes.  
"No peaking!" Kurt scolded.  
"Fine! Fine!" Blaine shut them the whole way and felt a weight. "What?"  
"Okay, open!" And Blaine did. "Merry Christmas!"  
"What is- This isn't-" Blaine brushed his hand along the old familiar sticker-covered guitar case.  
"It is." Kurt assured him. Blaine flicked the notches on the case open and lifted the lid. Inside, sure enough, slept his guitar, perfectly intact and friendly as ever.  
"I used the video Artie got. I showed it to Puck and asked him if he knew the guy." Kurt explained, "Apparently his name is Steel-Toe Joe. Puck asked him where the guitar was, and he told me Joe sold it to some pawn shop down town. So... I bought it."  
"You bought it?" Blaine's jaw dropped, "With what money?"  
"The money I got from working." Kurt shrugged. Blaine's eyes bugged looking back to the instrument.  
"Kurt this must have cost-"  
"Nothing."  
"What?" He met Kurt's glistening eyes.  
"Does it matter what it cost? It's your happiness, Blaine. You can't put a price on that."  
Blaine had no words. He laid his guitar on the ground and turned, throwing his arms around Kurt. Kurt hugged him back gently, enjoying the contrasting warmth Blaine provided against the chilled night air. Blaine smiling. Blaine's happiness. That was all Kurt wanted this Christmas.  
"Kurt?" He pulled away.  
"Hm?"  
"I lo- " Blaine faltered, getting caught in Kurt's expectant eyes, "I... Merry Christmas."  
'Merry Christmas, Blaine."

* * *

"Again, why are we going back? Didn't we just ruin their Christmas?" Blaine asked on their walk back to the bakery.  
"Quite possible, but who knows? Christmas is about love and forgiveness, right?" Kurt shrugged, "I'd at least like to apologize."  
"And see if she called the cops?" Blaine allured.  
"Yeah, well... Should it happen to just come up, it's be nice to know." Kurt mocked nonchalance, and looked over at Blaine still beaming despite the night's over all occurrences.  
"And what if we should up and there are a bunch of cops there? Where do we go?" Blaine picked at, huddling closer to Kurt as they walked.  
"How's Canada this time of year?"  
"God no!" Blaine refuted, "It's awful! I've been." He moaned. "Why not somewhere warm? I'm tired of the cold."  
"Tell you what," Kurt planned, "If we do it right, we can sneak onto trains and buses and make our way across the country, and we can stop wherever you want and start from scratch."  
"Anywhere?" Blaine hummed.  
"Except Ohio."  
"Yes, because Ohio was definitely my top choice."  
"Hey, I'm just saying-" Kurt trailed off, "Maybe we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves just yet. Look."  
Blaine followed his gaze to the Hudson bakery. There were no sirens, no red and blue lights, no authorities of any kind. Jurt the empty street with the seemingly forlorn looking bakery, with dimmed lights still on. Carole and Finn must have still been up. Which was obvious, how could they seep after a night like this? Tina and Artie and Mike must have gone home, and the Hudsons must have been all alone. Which was probably like every other year. Kurt thought for a moment, imagining two people spending holidays alone, with no one but each other and the aching feeling that something- someone was missing. He understood now why Carole let Finn have his friends over, because she was all he had and she wanted him to have more. A pair wasn't a family, Kurt imagined. But Kurt quickly realized he wasn't imagining. This had been his life too and somewhere, in the unforgiving frozen wasteland of Lima, Ohio, there was a man in a quiet and empty house with no family and now no pair to share the empty holiday with. There was no tree and were no lights. There were no presents and no dinner. There was likely beer and a promise of tears.  
But Kurt shook his head not wanting to think of that. If he continued he'd surely cry until his own tears had frozen to his face. And it was Christmas Eve, the shelter was full and he and Blaine were likely to sleep on the streets that night.  
"Kurt?" Blaine's gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts.  
"Now or never." Answered Kurt as he led them towards the Bakery. Suspiciously enough, on the door was a note which Kurt pulled off and read. Smiling, he pushed the door open dragin Blaine inside, and handing the note to him to read.  
_'Kurt, please lock the door when you and Blaine come in and hurry up, your hot chocolate is getting cold. -Carole'_

* * *

"Carole?" Kurt called unsurely, "Finn?"  
"Kurt, what if this was a trap?" Blaine dropped the not and grabbed his shoulder, "What if the cops or child services are actually waiting upstairs?"  
Kurt his head, "Finn's here." He pointed to Finn and Carole's coats on the rack.  
"So?"  
"So," Kurt headed towards the stairs, "If they were trying to trick us, Finn would have blown it by now."  
"Hey." Came Finn's defensive voice from the top of the stairs.  
Kurt tossed a look back down to Blaine.  
Finn brought both of them into the house.  
"Boys." Carole stood with her hands on her hips. Dear goodness, she looked exhausted. She gestured to the couch, expecting the boys to take their seats.  
"Carole, we-"  
"Sit." She repeated.  
"Yes ma'am." They complied in unison and took their seats on the couch with two comfy chairs opposite to them. True to Carole's 'good cop-bad cop in one' personality, two mugs of hot chocolate were laid on the coffee table for them.  
She stared at them for a bit- not angrily, not disappointedly, but... sad. Blaine was dying for someone to say something- anything. Luckily, Kurt did.  
"I'm sorry."  
"I know." Carole said quickly, "That's why you're here. Drink."  
They both reached for their mugs.  
"What were you thinking?" She sat in her chair, putting them at ease.  
"I..." Kurt decided now was no time for lies, "I needed a job."  
Finn took the other chair with his own, what was likely his third, cup of coco.  
"I didn't mean that." She corrected, "I meant what were you thinking, not telling me?"  
"We..." Blaine almost answered but realized now that admitting their assumptions would do nothing but insult Carole.  
"You two are family." Her hurt tone almost broke their hearts, "You would have rather risked it on the streets than trust me with this?"  
"You're a mom, Carole." Kurt reminded, "You see every kid as somebody's son."  
"And the truth is, some of us aren't. Not... not anymore." Muttered Blaine.  
"As a mom, you want kids to have the life your son has, and I guess..." Kurt swirled his glass, watching the liquid swish, "I didn't- we didn't really think you'd understand that that's not really an option for us."  
Carole sat back, still not wanting to fully understand their motives,"Maybe not, but something better than the streets at least..." Neither boy looked up at her, both were in their own worlds, running through the 'what if's and 'what could have been's in their heads.  
"You don't hate us, do you?" Blaine asked like a seven year old who'd just been yelled at by his father.  
"No, I- Never." She smiled sadly, "You boys ar family. I want you two to know you can trust me. That's why I didn't demand that you stay here after I found out. I wanted to give you time, so you would come to me."  
"What like the half hour we were gone?" Blaine looked up, confused.  
"No, I mean the weeks after you two were attacked." She clarified.  
"Wait-" Kurt's head shot up to mach Blaine's expression, "You knew?"  
"How?" Blaine shook his head.  
"Well, jeez, if you want to keep a secret from someone, don't break into their house in the middle of the night and tell it to the world." Carole chuckle, sipping her own drink.  
"When we told Artie and Tina..." Blaine pieced together.  
"You were on those stairs for a while, weren't you?" Kurt smiled.  
"Why else would I have made you stay here and not driven you home? Because both of your parents were conveniently out of town? Give me some credit." She gave them a look.  
"So you..." Blaine was having a much harder time grasping this than Kurt.  
"I was concerned though, so I did go to the police." She admitted and could almost see their hearts sink.  
"We don't have to go to a home, do we?" Blaine asked desperately, "You can't send Kurt back, Carole. You can't!"  
"Calm down, nobody's going anywhere." She assured, "I went to the station to get some information on you two and see if you were filed under 'missing children'." She recounted, "Blaine, honey, nothing was reported about you."  
Blaine nodded, "Why would there be?" He scoffed, "They threw me out. They don't want to know where I am."  
"But your brother does." She said.  
"Cooper...?" She nodded, "Coopers all the in California, what does he care-"  
"I got your parents' number from the phonebook. I told them that they could call me if they ever needed to reach you. A last week your brother called, wanting to know where you were." She explained, "Apparently he came home for Christmas and your parents told him that you weren't living with them anymore. He's furious."  
The corner of Blaine's mouth twitched into a smirk. Leave it to Cooper to over-react.  
"He wants to see you, Blaine." Carole informed with a smile, "I told him I would talk to you."  
Blaine looked up uncertainly, "You don't have to answer tonight." She eased.  
"Kurt," She turned to him, "your case is still in Ohio. You're still classified as missing. They ran an investigation after they found your blood outside your school and on a bridge. They think you're dead, but they can't declare that unless they find a body."  
Kurt's eyes widened in numbing shock. He didn't care if everyone else thought he was dead, but his father...  
"What about my dad?" His voice sounded much younger.  
"He's a very nice man." Carole smiled.  
"You spoke to him?"  
"As you said, I'm a mom. If Finn went missing, I'd lose my mind." She looked to her son lovingly.  
"I'm sorry. I just- I couldn't stay there and- and he had his garage and I could make him leave I just... I just- I" Kurt sputtered defensively.  
"Sweetheart, he understands. He was just terrified that he'd lost you. But I've been telling him what a blessing you've been to me and Finn, and how grateful we are that you and Blaine are here. We've developed quite the repore with one another." She chuckled, "I keep him up to date and assure him you're okay. He's not telling the police or anything. He loves you, Kurt."  
"I know." Kurt blinked back tears, "I love him too."  
"Tonight when you playing, I called him so he could hear." She said hesitantly."You have no idea how happy he was."  
There was no helping it. Kurt's tears were streaming now in relief to know that his father was okay. He almost asked for a phone to call him, but Kurt knew that once he did he would feel nothing but shame and regret. Hearing his father voice would only make everything that much harder.  
"But he wants you to go to school, even if it's just online." She added, "In fact, I want both of you to start going to school. You've got the rest of your lives to work. Blaine, your brother told me you were at that all boys private school, and Kurt, you were one of the brightest in your class. Neither of you should have trouble catching up. You are both too young to be giving up so early."  
"But we don't have anywhere to-"  
"You're staying with me and Finn in the guest bedroom." She informed.  
"Carole we couldn't-" Kurt shook his head.  
"Kurt and I were saving up for an apartment." Blaine announced.  
"Well, Kurt spent a good amount of money he made to buy that guitar. Unless you want an apartment in Failsafe, it's not going to be happening anytime soon." She reminded, "His father sent me money for the both of you for clothes and food. You'll still be able to save up for an apartment if you want though. I can't keep you here. But for now, you're staying."  
Kurt and Blaine looked to each other with an understanding. They would stay, but not for long. Carole had given them more than enough, and they could take care of themselves. They didn't want to feel in debt anymore... and that apartment in Failsafe had their names on it.

* * *

_Part two of Christmas... I'm considering making this fic a two part. This and the sequel because this all has like... two plots going on... In case you're wondering, what I call the 'Failsafe' portion of this fic have more comedy., so I think I should make it a sequel... what do you guys think? I would also need title ideas for it... So far I have these in the running... Tell me which you like or suggest your own! I'd love to hear what you've got!_

_"The Art of Redirection"_

_"The Direction of Living"_

_"Life in the Right Direction" _

_"And Life Goes On" _

_"Different Directions"_

_"Life in Another Direction"_

_Yeah, I know they kinda suck... please help?_

_~holleigh_


	18. And Life Goes On

**Alright! Guys, it's decided. The rest of the story will be in a separate sequel entitled 'Life in the Right Direction' I'm doing this because I know some people get intimidated my long fics and if I didn't, this would end up being somewhere close to 30+ chapters. Anyway, I do hope to see you all tuning into the sequel, and take a moment to that you all for sticking with me through this and review and reading and favoriting and following and the whole shabang! **  
**The link to 'Life In The Right Direction' is on my profile in my stories, hope to see you there!**

_**Life in the Right Direction: Kurt and Blaine reach their point of feeling they've overstayed their welcome with the Hudsons, and search for a new apartment, meeting interesting new roommates and neighbors. Meanwhile, Finn enlists their help to win Rachel over wants by helping her start a show choir.**_

_~Hollegih_


End file.
